


Let Me Own You

by LadyOfCythera



Category: The 100 (TV) RPF, The 100 Series - Kass Morgan
Genre: Alternate Reality, Badass Lexa, Clexa, Club Owner Lexa, Doctor Clarke, Dominance, F/F, F/M, Intense, Jealous Clarke, Minor Violence, Passion, Protective Lexa, Recreational Drug Use, Sexual Content, The 100 - Freeform, f/f - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-26
Updated: 2019-06-13
Packaged: 2019-06-16 18:29:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 25
Words: 166,848
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15443193
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyOfCythera/pseuds/LadyOfCythera
Summary: 'Before she had time to react, I shook my head, pressing my finger to her open mouth, "You're not in charge anymore." I could see the heavy desire in the green of her eyes as they widened. If she wasn't turned on before, she definitely was now.'Lexa was by no means accustomed to being refused. As an austere club owner, she possessed not only a sickening amount of power, but an annoying aptitude for getting exactly what she wanted. Everybody knew it. Or, at least, almost everybody. When slightly naive Clarke Griffin stumbles into her club and declines an offer to get closer to the club-owner, Lexa makes it her personal mission to pull every thread of Clarke's self-control just to watch her unravel.WARNINGS: Drug references; sexual content; bad language; dealing with difficult emotions.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Initially, this piece of fanfiction was intended to be a one shot. I ended up caving into my own desires to continue the story further due to the irresistible chemistry between Clarke and Lexa. Although I attempt to include details about each of the characters and their back stories, the general perspective will switch between Clarke and Lexa's narratives as this is primarily focused on their relationship progression.
> 
> It is important to note that the Costia/Lexa and Clarke Griffin/Niylah relationship tags do not necessarily indicate a current exclusive relationship between these pairings. I've included these tags as there will be some content in future chapters relating to romantic interactions between them. I don't want to give too much away, but to clarify, the focal point of this story is the development between Clarke and Lexa. I hope this doesn't cause any confusion.
> 
> The .::. symbol signifies a switch in POV.

.: _:._

 

 “She’s totally looking at me.”

_Christ, if he says that one more time, I’m going to –_

 “Seriously. You can’t see it? She can’t get enough.”

 “Bellamy, Jesus, you’re an ass at the best of times. Please don’t demote yourself to a dick just because you’re drunk.”

 It seemed Octavia beat me to it. Instead of his sister’s comment deterring his behaviour, however, it simply exacerbated it, “Look, O… I’d prefer to be a dick than an ass any day. It’s way more exciting. Wouldn’t you agree, Lincoln?” He smirked, before his expression fell, “In fact… don’t answer that. I don’t want to know what excitement your dick has…”

 Octavia, it seemed, had just about had enough of her brother’s drunk ass. She rolled her eyes and grabbed her boyfriend’s arm, pulling him into the crowd.

 “Seriously?” I muttered, “You’re leaving me alone with _this_?” I indicated bluntly to the intoxicated young man staring dopily into the VIP area of the club. My complaint was to of no avail as Octavia and her counterpart had already disappeared.

  _Oh, joy_.

 “For god’s sake.” I couldn’t refrain from subjecting Bellamy to a dramatic eye roll, only to find it seemed to amuse him all the more.

 His smirk returned and he leaned forwards to ruffle my hair playfully, “What’s the matter, Princess? Getting jealous or something?”

 “Of the other girl supposedly giving you the eyes? Definitely. Because she’s somewhere over there out of your perverted reach.” I shoved at his chest lightly, barely budging him a centimetre, “What’s so special about her anyway? Which one is she?” I craned my neck, failing to follow his gaze to the target of his attention due to the number of broad backed bouncers blocking off the entrance.

 “Oh, not your type.” He teased, running his fingers through his tangle of black hair.

 “No? And how do you know what my type is, jackass?” I couldn’t help but laugh, still trying to get a glimpse of the girl.

 “You like tall, handsome, dark-haired strangers shrouded in mystery. Men like me, obviously.” He rested an elbow on my shoulder, offering me a mock-patronising smile. This was the treatment I was used to from Bellamy. He was like an older brother to me. God no, wait. Scratch that. He was far too inappropriately flirtatious to be considered in that category.

 “Oh, honey, you and I both know I’m renouncing men for now. Even the tall, handsome, dark-haired ones.” In fact… _especially_ those.

 “You mean ever since you fucked Finn Collins and then found out he had a long-term girlfriend?”

 “I’m over that.” I fibbed, “Boys are just too much trouble.”

 Bellamy shrugged, “Hell yeah we are.”

 I wasn’t sure I could pinpoint the first time I met the Blakes; Bellamy and his sister Octavia. I assumed it was as a teen. We ran in the same circle of friends and went to the same parties. I’d known about them both – he had never been on my list of liked people, but I’d always gotten along well enough with Octavia (when she wasn’t busy being a spitfire).  I’d never been a fan of Bellamy; in fact I was pretty sure I’d despised him at first. Arrogant, self-centred, roguish. The exact material needed to be a ring-leader of a group of irresponsible teens. Maybe that’s why we clashed.

 I was definitely arrogant and self-ascertained myself.

 We’d ended up accidentally enjoying each other’s company and found ourselves caught in the brief limbo of: are we just friends, or are we more?

 But the longer we left it, the vague chemistry we’d had neutralised and left us as comfortable friends. Now the thought of anything more than that put me off. To be honest, we both preferred it that way.

 “God, Bel, this is killing me. Just get over there if she’s showing she’s interested.” I sighed, “You’re like a lost puppy.”

 “Clarke…” He began, turning his eyes in my direction briefly, “…do you have any idea how long it took me to bag us tickets to get here? I’m not about to get chucked out by approaching the VIP section. Do you know how strict they are with that shit?”

 “You mean how long it took you to persuade Lincoln to get us on the guest list?” I smirked.

 He just gave a low laugh before he reached into his pocket, “Do you want to see Charlie?”

 I knew immediately he was referring to the cocaine in his jeans. I chewed on my lip for a moment, trying to talk myself out of it, “I shouldn’t. You know they do random drug checks at work.”

 “But you will. You always do.” Bellamy had already seen my hesitation, and had pulled me against him, surreptitiously sliding the packet of powder into the hand I had trapped between our stomachs, “If you get caught, don’t mention my name.” He laughed quietly.

 “I will.” I grinned, curling my hand around the packet and holding it subtly by my side, “I’m going to the bathroom. I’ll see you in a minute.”

 Automatically, I glanced to the VIP lounge as I walked towards the bathroom.

 That was when I saw her.

  _Fuck_.

 It wasn’t the most eloquent of words I could’ve chosen, but it was the only one left in my vocabulary once my eyes landed on hers.

 She was, in a word, striking.

 Maybe that didn’t even cover it.

 I wasn’t sure there was a singular word that _did_ cover it.

 She possessed an unmistakable presence about her – despite the fact she was simply sitting at a table, a glass of wine held deftly in her fingertips.

 It was hard to tell whether she knew I was ogling. But despite the distance, I could see the piercing green of her intense gaze and the way it bit into me. It contrasted startlingly with her dark eye makeup and olive skin. Her burnished brown hair was pulled back over her shoulders, a few locks braided together. She couldn’t have been much older than me, if at all, and I was just shy of 21.

 No wonder Bellamy couldn’t look away.

 With one simple stare, she had left me feeling completely exposed.

 I stumbled for a moment, accidentally knocking into somebody.

 “Shit.” I muttered, feeling the packet slip from my fingers. I reached down, quickly trying to retrieve it, praying nobody had noticed.

 Once it was safely returned to my hold, I ducked out of the crowds, my heart thudding wildly behind my sternum.

 I couldn’t work out whether that physiological response was due to almost losing the cocaine, or because of the unexpected eye contact I’d made with the girl Bellamy had been pining about all goddamn evening.

 I pushed the cubicle door closed behind me and tipped the white powder out onto the ridge of my house key. I knew I was making a mistake doing this.

 I’d been planning on quitting the use of recreational drugs ever since I’d started working at my mother’s hospital. The party lifestyle I’d led as a teen had gotten me into far too much trouble, so why was I still doing this? Especially considering what I could lose if I got caught.

 I sat on the closed toilet lid, telling myself not to think too deeply about what I was doing to avoid the self-disgust I would imminently feel.

 I hated doing it.

 But I did it anyway.

 There was a time a few years ago I would’ve refused to do anything too outrageous. Even when partying. Hence why my friends tended to call me ‘Princess’. Yet, even now, the name had stuck. Along with other bad habits.

 Moments later, I slid the key back into my bag, tossing the empty packet into the sanitary waste bin. Once the familiar feeling of my head detaching itself from the rest of my body set in, I opened the cubicle door and swayed from the room. Before I could stop myself, my eyes had drifted back over to the VIP lounge, but she’d gone.

 Bellamy would be devastated, of course. Unless he’d finally found the balls to approach her and that was the reason of her absence…

 Alas, my eyes landed on the crestfallen expression of my friend and his sister (who was in absolutely no way trying to console him).

 “It was definitely meant to be… I could feel the fates smiling down on me!” Bellamy was explaining theatrically, much to Lincoln’s amusement.

 “I highly doubt that.” He informed him.

 Bellamy creased his eyebrows, “Way to kill my mood, man. She was definitely looking at me.”

 Lincoln just shrugged, a smirk on his lips as he condescendingly responded, “Babe, you’re gorgeous. Nobody’s disputing that. But she wasn’t staring at you.”

 “Oh no? What makes you say that?”

 Lincoln gestured to me before folding his arms over his broad chest, “She was staring at Clarke.”

 At the mention of my name, I became instantly attuned to the conversation.

 “Yeah, right.” Bellamy rolled his eyes, as Lincoln pulled on his arm with raised eyebrows.

 “You don’t believe me?” He pointed up to the balcony above the dancefloor, “She doesn’t dig the dick.”

 I let my eyes travel with Bellamy’s to the higher tier of the VIP lounge and caught myself mid-breath.

 The girl with the pale green gaze was currently leaning forwards against the railing, permitting some pretty little blonde thing to run her fingers up and down her bare arm. The blonde chick was moving in close to her, whispering into her ear.

 But it seemed the brunette was utterly unaffected.

 Her eyes were fixed elsewhere.

 On me.

 “See?” Lincoln teased.

 Bellamy groaned, “For god’s sake, Princess. Why do you always get the hot ones?”

 I would’ve responded to his comment, but I was otherwise engaged in setting my jaw and angling my body in the girl’s direction. I couldn’t figure out whether she was looking at me out of interest, or simply because she wanted to coerce me.

 The steeliness of her glare made it pretty difficult to tell.

 Either way, I wasn’t about to let her think she had the upper-hand just because she was in the VIP section and had girls upon girls hanging out nearby like she was some pimp. Maybe it was my liquid confidence, or just my outright stubborn nature, but I handed her stare straight back to her. My directness seemed to catch her attention, and I noticed her eyebrows raise mildly.

 “Clarke… _Clarke_.” Lincoln’s voice brought me back to the dancefloor, “Careful.”

 “Careful? With what? Just because she thinks she owns the VIP lounge, it doesn’t mean I’m going to let her try intimidate me.”

 This amused Octavia’s boyfriend further, and he gave a soft laugh, “Clarke, she doesn’t just own the VIP lounge… She owns the entire club.”

 This threw me. Naturally.

 I blinked and turned to look at him, “Come again?”

 My reaction was met with entertained laughter, “Does she intimidate you now?” Octavia asked, bumping my hip with hers.

 “Not at all.” I muttered.

 Maybe it was a tiny white lie.

 I let my eyes drift back over to the club-owner, watching the way she had turned to address the blonde growth beside her, her hand resting lightly on the girl’s waist. It was a subtle gesture – one that showed no promise of affection, but didn’t deny the blonde of receiving the attention she had been craving (presumably all night). She pouted at the brunette’s words, but turned away to join the rest of the girls at the table.

 “I smell fear.” Bellamy jibed, standing on the other side of me to Octavia, dropping his elbow on my shoulder.

 “Is that your new cologne?” I asked, sarcastically.

 He ignored my remark with a grin, “It seems Princess has finally met her match.”

 “Oh, fuck off, Bel. You’re just jealous it’s me she’s eyeing up.” I smirked, glancing up to him.

 “Well, if you get the chance to ask her… see if she likes threesomes. I’d be happy to consent to that.”

 I shuddered visibly, knocking his elbow off my shoulder, “If I was to have a threesome, Bellamy Blake, it would not be with her… and it would certainly not be with you.” I flicked the tip of his nose and turned away from the balcony.

 Octavia, on the other hand, was busy gagging at her brother’s words, “Jesus, Bel. Can you not?”  

 Bellamy ignored her and laughed, sipping his drink, “You’d really turn her down?” He asked.

 I took his glass from his hand and downed the rest of the content, “Like she’d even ask…”

 “You mean, she’d just demand you?” He tilted his head to the side and I could practically see the array of scenes he was playing out in his head, “Damn, that’s hot.”

 “That’s _not_ what I meant, idiot. I meant she looks like the sort that just wait for people to come crawling to her. That is not who I am, thank you very much.”

 Lincoln’s eyes had drifted to a tall bearded figure who was currently approaching us, and it became quickly clear he wasn’t here to party.

 He was dressed in full black, his bouncer ID strapped around his bicep. I made to get out of his way so he could sift through our group, but he stopped right in front of me, “You’ve been asked to join the VIP lounge.”

 His words barely registered.

 “What?” I asked numbly.

 “Don’t make me repeat myself. You’ve been requested to join the VIP lounge. Quickly, before she changes her mind.” The bouncer folded his arms over his thick-muscled chest. He looked like he’d recently digested 20 barrels of protein powder.

 “Requested?” I raised my eyebrows, unable to stop myself from bristling at his words, “I’m good thanks.”

  The bouncer evidently wasn’t used to being denied. He raised his eyebrows and took a step forwards, “Do you want to get kicked out?”

 Lincoln stiffened beside me – well, nobody told me this club was so shady! I wasn’t about to let myself be loaned out like I was an item.

 “If the alternative is getting forced to go somewhere I don’t want to go without my friends.”

Who the fuck did this club-owner think she was? She had more arrogance than both Bellamy and I put together.

 “Your friends… no.” He didn’t even spare them a glance, “She’s asked for _you_.”

 “Tell her I politely decline.” I muttered, sidling past him, “And that if she wants _me_ then _she_ can come and get me herself.”

 “Do you want escorting out?” He growled. I knew I shouldn’t have done it, but I couldn’t stop myself flashing him the middle finger as I headed towards the exit.

 “No, I can walk, thank you.”

 Maybe I was overreacting. Maybe I should have been flattered. But if she’d wanted to talk to me, she could’ve come down off her pedestal and spoken to me herself.

 I was pretty sure I’d get an earful from the others, but I didn’t care. I wasn’t an object.

 Once the fresh air hit my chest, I pulled out a cigarette and placed it between my lips. Another bad habit I was planning on quitting.

 “Hey, Clarke.”

 I turned, seeing Octavia standing behind me.

 “You don’t have to come with me. Stay with the others and enjoy the rest of your night.” I knew Octavia hated cutting her evenings short.

 She shook her head, “No. It’s not worth it. It’s all just wankers in there anyway. Are you okay?”

 I nodded, feeling calmer once I’d taken a few deep breaths and let the nicotine ease my mood, “Yeah. I know I was just being contrary… but it’s like… Just because I’ve paid entry into her club, it doesn’t mean she can summon me as she pleases.”

 “I know. She probably thought it was a compliment or something.”

 “As flattering as it was to have a large bearded brute demand my presence in the VIP lounge, I just had to refuse – no matter how painful it was.” I couldn’t help but snort to myself at the incredulity of what had just happened, and that was all it took for Octavia to giggle as I placed my hand theatrically over my chest to feign the heartbreak.

 “Come on. Let’s go somewhere else.” Bellamy had emerged out of the exit, followed closely by Lincoln, “You should have seen her face, Princess. It’s like she’d never been told ‘no’ in her life.”

 I struggled to believe she’d let any kind of emotion betray her expression, but it made me feel better all the same.

 

.::.

 

 It wasn’t a regular occurrence for me to show up at my own clubs. I did every now and again just for the sake of showing my face.

 I’d already gone through the custom greetings with those I knew, deciding who could stay in the lounge and those who I wanted to leave.

 “Are you having a drink?”

 I turned to the girl currently heaving her breasts in my general direction, twirling a lock of pale blonde hair around her finger. I gave her a brief once-over and shrugged. _Surprise me_.

 “It’s been a while since you last came here, right?” She asked, paying for a bottle of wine at the bar and setting it down on the glass table by my hip. I just inclined my head and sat down, letting her pour me a glass. In truth, I couldn’t remember whether I’d met her before or not.

 I was used to this sort of behaviour elicited by other females – and males alike, although the latter species quickly discovered I wasn’t interested in their offerings. The girls who dared speak to me first usually became flustered when I actually replied, so I’d rapidly learned not to open my mouth. Let them make whatever they wanted of the situation.

 It was all the same to me.

 I let my eyes graze along the floor of the club, recognising a few regulars. Mostly, the club was filled with testosterone pumped men and women in slutty dresses.

 It wasn’t that I didn’t enjoy admiring the bare skin from where I sat – it was just too common for it to be exciting to me anymore.

 I knew that for some people, getting into the club was a big deal for them. You had to know somebody who had been coming a while before you could get your name put on the guest list. That sort of atmosphere made everybody act either over-confident, or utterly unsure of themselves.

 There was nothing new tonight.

 Not until a group of people I hadn’t seen before fell into the room, already buzzing off their own vibes. I recognised perhaps one of them. The tall dark-skinned male. He’d been here before. The others in the group were cautious to begin with – aside from the blonde in the white floaty dress.

 She walked with natural confidence, already gelling effortlessly with the other members of the crowd. Which wasn’t exactly an easy task. She caught a few eyes and offered playful smiles to people she’d never met. Already, I could tell she was new to this sort of scene, and if she recognised the unspoken rules of the club, she didn’t seem to care about them.

 I wondered how long it would take before she got kicked out for having too much fun…

 While her male friends waited at the bar, she stumbled into a group of girls and clapped a hand over her mouth, offering her apologies.

 Newcomers got punched in this club for less.

 But somehow, she’d managed to freely strike up conversation, resting a hand on one girl’s hip as she leaned closer to say something quietly in her ear. Whatever it was she said, it got a good reception. I was almost certain the girl had blushed, her own hand resting atop the blonde’s. She parted ways with the group of girls, offering the one she’d interacted with the most a small wink.

 Watching her at first was a game; waiting to see how long it took before she rubbed somebody up the wrong way. But the longer I let my eyes follow her, the more she intrigued me. She was unconventional, and she pulled it off well. She passed the time by dancing with her female friend, and occasionally breaking away from her to run her fingers down a man’s chest, or to smile coyly at another girl.

 Interesting.

 When her friends had returned she was blocked from my view, and I allowed myself some input into the conversation occurring at the table, picking up my glass of wine and swilling the contents around the edges lightly.

 Once I’d taken a sip, I let my eyes drift back to the floor, seeing the tearaway weave her way in and out of the crowd as she made her way towards the bathroom. But this time, she saw me.

 The blue hues of her eyes landed directly on my stare, and widened. It seemed she hadn’t been paying attention to where she was walking while she was busy trying to make sense of me – I could see the collision happen before it did.

 This time, she made no attempt to sweet talk her way out of confrontation, and instead crouched down to pick something up before she hurried off into the bathroom.

  _Curiouser and curiouser…_

 I took another sip of wine and lazily placed it back down on the table top, standing up to stretch my legs. Now she’d seen me watching her, I felt my game wouldn’t be as exciting. I’d thrown her off-guard… and for some reason, it turned me on.

 I made my way up the stairs to the balcony where it was a little less populated by people trying to state their superiority to everybody else. Except me. When they addressed me, it was to impress me.

 I quickly tired of that sort of behaviour.

 I leaned forwards, resting my elbows on the railing of the balcony, hearing the blonde piece who had bought me wine speak.

 I didn’t mind the attention so long as it didn’t require any kind of effort on my part.

 “I’ve heard things about you…” She was murmuring, reaching forwards and running her fingers over my shoulder. I said nothing but waited for her to continue, “…I’ve heard about the way you fuck.”

 I internally rolled my eyes; wonderful. Another girl avoiding the use of any kind of intelligence to gain my interest.

 The girl in the white dress had emerged from the bathroom, her head turning back towards the place I was sitting last. I _almost_ smirked.

 She had returned to her group and was talking with her friends, once again animated in the conversation.

 But… judging by the way they kept stealing glances in my direction, I assumed I was the topic. Nothing I wasn’t used to.

 “I’d like to see it for myself.” The girl trailing her hand over my skin had moved closer to my body, but I disregarded her comment, watching the way the blonde on the dancefloor had moved to face me, her eyes meeting mine fiercely.

 The man I’d seen before shifted uncomfortably and leaned over to murmur something to her, presumably to explain who I was. The expression on her face after that was almost amusing. I sighed, sensing the girl hanging onto my side was beginning to feel rejected by my silence. I turned, allowing my fingers to brush her waist lightly, “I’m not looking for that tonight.” _Not from you_ , “Go. Enjoy yourself.”

 I doubted that’s what she expected to hear, and she sent me a chagrined frown, but consented and moved away to join the other girls.

 “Somebody caught your attention?”

 I glanced over to Gustus, the bouncer in charge, standing in the corner of the balcony a few steps away from me, “The blonde. On the dancefloor.” I shrugged.

 “Do you want me to fetch her?” He asked, his eyes following my gaze.

 Once again, I shrugged, “You can ask her. But I’m not sure she’d want to join me.”

 Gustus scoffed, “And since when has anybody ever said no to you?”

 This was a valid question. “Never.”

  _But something told me this girl might._

 Gustus had bowed his head and strode down onto the ground floor, parting the crowds like he was Moses, and stopping in front of the blonde girl.

 Perhaps it was a bad idea to agree to this. Gustus wasn’t the most softly spoken of men.

 Well… maybe that was an understatement.

 He had about as much tact in him as my little toe.

 But he was a myrmidon. _My_ myrmidon.

 The scene unfurled in a way that even I hadn’t predicted, and ended with the blonde tearaway flipping Gustus the rod. It was a good job she was slight enough to lose herself in the crowd before leaving, or I was pretty certain he would’ve slung her over his shoulder and dragged her outside himself.

 Disgruntled, he shoved his way back through the clubbers and found himself back at my side.

 “She, uh… politely declined.” He said carefully.

 “Yes, I saw that. What did you say to cause that kind of reaction?” I raised an eyebrow, fully expecting the worst.

 Gustus explained the extent of their conversation – in diluted words. He was a deeply misunderstood character; I’d known he’d only meant well for me, but the blonde in the white dress had evidently rejected any kind of force he’d suggested.

 I knew that she hadn’t turned down the offer because she wasn’t interested in me. She’d turned down the offer because it was Gustus who’d offered it on my behalf.

 It was entertaining for me… simply because, in her position, I would’ve done the exact same.

 

.::.

 

 I was presently halfway through an internal debate as to whether I wanted to stick out the rest of the night, or just go home. I flicked the crumbling ash from the end of my cigarette and pressed it back to my lips for a final drag.

 I saw the faces of my friends before I realised what (or _who_ ) they were looking at.

 Initially I wondered what could have caused their mouths to gape open as I tossed the butt of my cigarette to the floor.

 Until I felt a cool hand slide into mine.

 Holy shit.

 Before I could respond, I was being pulled back inside.

 My reactions hadn’t caught up with the rest of me until I found myself standing in the VIP lounge, face to face with the club-owner.

 “Wha– how dare you?” I exclaimed, tearing my hand from hers, only to discover she was staring at me intently, unperturbed at my outburst.

 “Was this what you meant when you told my bouncer to come get you myself?” She arched a single eyebrow, her expression remaining steady.

 In my building fury, I struggled to formulate an appropriately witty reply and just let my lips part, affronted. It wasn’t helping that her features were all the more striking from such a close distance. She didn’t seem to mind waiting for me to speak, the power of her presence and the beat of the music knocking away the edge of the silence.

 She had evidently taken my words literally, and I suppose it was intentional. She was making a statement the same way I did. She wasn’t afraid of chasing things she wanted.

 Although I was surprised she considered me worth the bother.

 After a moment, I took a step closer, “So, what do you want?”

 I wanted her to suffer. I wanted her to tell me outright.

 I waited, crossing my arms beneath my breast.

  _Tell me_.

 She let her eyes run me up and down, the hint of a small smirk pulling at one corner of her lips, “Isn’t it obvious? I want you.”

 She’d said the words with such certainty, I’d forgotten I was supposed to be angry with her.

 “What?” I murmured, quietly. All hints of mockery had drained from her features as she spoke the words, her voice like a river running over smooth stones.

 “I said: I want you.” She repeated, barely betraying a glimpse of vulnerability at making such a direct statement not just once. But twice.

 It took me a moment to recover from her proclamation, but eventually I recalled myself and creased my eyebrows, “You’re aware I’m not here to whore myself out, right?”

 “If I thought that, I’d be offering you money.”

 Her pale gaze was wearing me down. Fast.

 “So, what _are_ you offering, hm?” I was a little pissed off at myself for even bothering to humour her.

 “Tell me your name.”

  _Sure, just outright ignore my question._

 It was a reasonable demand though, considering the situation.

 “Clarke.” I muttered, caught in a state of uncertainty; for a start, I wasn’t sure why I was still bothering to engage in conversation, but something about her kept me rooted to the floor.

 “Well, Clarke…” She began, taking a deliberate step forwards, tightening the distance between us. “…I could offer you a screaming orgasm.”

  _Jesus._

 She was testing my limits, trying to catch me off-guard. Saying things for the effect.

 I took a slow breath inwards, discounting the narrowing of my windpipe.

 I doubted I’d ever met somebody this intense. She wasn’t scared of being rejected – probably because until me, she hadn’t been told ‘no’.

 “And what would be in it for you?”

 Her lips twitched as though she could’ve been about to smirk, but stopped herself short, “That depends on what _you’re_ offering, Clarke.”

 Finn Collins had been my last. Maybe it was time to forget about him. But the stubborn part of me couldn’t relent that easily.

 “I’m going to offer you a taste. I’m not going to fuck you. You don’t get that from me tonight.”

 I severely questioned my own intelligence.

 What the hell was I doing?

 She waited for me to continue, her unblinking eyes never straying from mine, even as the blonde chick she was entertaining beforehand tried to catch her attention as she walked past.

 “You’re going to dance with me. Not here. On the floor. Right where people can see.”

 This was the real test; if she wanted me, she had to be willing to sacrifice something first.

 “Compromise… The underground floor. That’s where we dance.”

 I hadn’t been aware there was an underground level – it was probably VIP too…

 When I didn’t protest, she let her hand find mine once again, linking our fingers together gently. She turned, leading me to the stairs. I followed out of curiosity. And intrigue.

 And because I was slightly turned on.

 This didn’t have to mean anything.

 I was doing this purely for selfish purposes…

 The underground level was shaped like a halfpipe, fog from the smoke machines preventing me from seeing the end of the room; I had no idea how long the tunnel stretched, or how many people were in it. All I knew was that it was pretty goddamn packed out.

 “Drink?” She asked, resting her elbow on the bar, her other hand still clasped in mine.

 “Surprise me.”

 She surveyed me for a moment before turning to the bartender, the sound of the heavy bass making it difficult to hear what she ordered.

 The final product was pushed over the marble surface towards me in a martini glass. I picked it up and took a cautious sip; it was refreshingly tangy, but sweet. All at the same time.

 I hated to admit it, but it tasted good.

 “You like it?” She asked, raising her own to her lips.

 I shrugged a shoulder, “It’ll do.”

 “You like it.” She clarified, once again moving us through the crowds to the centre of the dancefloor.

 I ran my tongue over my lips to taste the residue and rolled my eyes, “Fine. I like it.” I conceded.

 Her fingers released mine, but she took a step closer to once again create an inflexibly small space between our bodies, “Good. It’s my new recipe. I’m trialling it.”

 “Your recipe?” I questioned, raising an eyebrow as her eyes shifted from her drink to meet mine.

 She inclined her head, finishing off the contents and handing both our empty glasses over to a passing waiter.

 “A woman of many talents, clearly.” I smirked, noticing the transition of songs and finding my body automatically swaying to the rhythm.

 She seemed unaffected by my comment and simply moved both hands to my hips, “Tell me about you, Clarke.”

 My fingers ran over her forearm and curled around her elbow, my eyes dropping to examine the ink enveloping her upper arm, “There’s not a lot to tell.”

 I could feel the potency of the alcohol revive my mood, and I couldn’t help but gravitate closer to her body as she held my gaze, “Liar.” She said simply, “Tell me what you do.”

 I shook my head, my hand moving along her surprisingly firm bicep. I’d thought there was nothing on her to begin with – that she was just skinny. But as I let my fingertips map her arms, I could feel the toned muscles wrapping around her bones, “It wouldn’t compare to your lifestyle. Besides, we’re not here to talk.”

 “Have it your way.” She tightened her hold on my hips, her fingers sliding to rest on my lower back. She could move. I could feel it in her hips, and I knew she could feel it in mine.

 That knowledge alone was enough to spur along the natural flirt within me and I rested my arm around her neck, pulling her head closer to mine, “I always have it my way.”

 This time, I saw the definite hint of a smile on her lips. Her face turned to my jaw as if she wanted nothing more than to hide the betrayal of humour on her features, “Then this might end up problematic.” She murmured, her nose brushing over my skin as her hips moved in sync with mine, “Because I always have it my way too.”

 “It’s only problematic if we want different things.” I breathed, my hand dragging over the bumps of her spine.

 “Then tell me what you want.” Her teeth grazed over my jugular, her musky but intoxicating scent filling my nose.

 “I want to feel something.” I told her honestly, the compactness of our bodies imposing a false sense of intimacy.

 But it was true. I guess that’s why I hadn’t given up the drugs or the smoking… or the reckless nights out. I was so busy trying to save lives at the hospital, living up to expectations of responsibility, and organise myself that I no longer had time to _feel_ anything.

 She was quiet against me, one hand sliding around my waist to press against the flat of my stomach. Despite the voluminous noise surrounding us, and the potential distractions of alcohol and other people, I knew she was listening.

 “Then feel.” She said steadily, spinning me around so my back was pressed up to her front, my hands automatically moving to rest over her thighs. Her lips were on my neck, her fingers trailing over my stomach, grasping at my hips.

 She moved her mouth so artfully down my skin, it was all I could do to stop the quiet moan leaving my chest. My eyes fell closed, permitting the sensation of being close to another person run over my body. I let my fingers tauten on her thighs, my nails cutting lightly into her soft skin. She was breathing heavily, her tongue trailing along my shoulder.

 I was feeling.

 Sure, it was erratic pleasure; unfamiliar intimacy with a stranger.

 But I was feeling.

 She had opened the gateway to raw passion, disregarding any kind of reservations I may have had.

 I purposefully hadn’t asked her name; I didn’t want to create the illusion that this could be more than a one-night thing. It wasn’t. I highly doubted she was planning on extending it longer than just tonight, either.

 Besides, knowing her name would take away the mystery.

 God, Bellamy was right about me. I did like tall, dark-haired strangers shrouded in mystery.

 Shit. Bellamy.

 And the others.

 I’d completely ditched them. Would they be worried?

 My thoughts were quickly discarded as I felt the woman’s fingers graze down the side of my throat, reminding me of the place I’d been in just moments before.

 I let my head tilt back, the heat of our bodies moving together spread a dusting of pink over my cheeks, “Clarke…” Her lips were by my ear, “I want you to tell me about you.”

 She knew she’d helped me feel something; God, I was pretty certain that there wasn’t a single person in the room that hadn’t seen me feel something.

 But she was demanding something in return.

 I turned, my eyes locking onto hers.

 Her hand fell to my rear and she tugged me back to her front, her eyes appealing to mine for an answer.

 I could feel the warmth of her skin on my backside even through my dress.

 “Like what?”

 “What do you do?” She pushed her hips subtly into mine, but I was already shaking my head.

 I wasn’t making crappy discussion about what I did for a living, where I grew up, or how many siblings I did or didn’t have while I was dirty dancing with an austere club-owner. She already had my attention, so why was she determined to pretend like she was interested in me for something other than pleasure?

 “Are you normally this difficult?”

 I nodded and moved my fingers to tangle into her hair, tugging her head back slightly so I could press my lips to her throat, “Always.”

 I could feel her ragged breaths tear through her chest as I exploited the bare skin on her neck. I doubt what we were doing could even be classed as dancing anymore.

 Her hands had claimed my ass, pulling my hips into hers carelessly; taking control seemed natural to her, as though it was expected of her lovers to willingly submit.

 I could understand why they did.

 She made it all too easy, leading my body with her rhythm, placing my hips exactly where she wanted them. I almost acquiesced to her instinctive dominance until I recalled just how stubborn I could be.

 I clenched my fingers tighter in her locks, yanking her head back one more time, “What makes you think I would be the one to have the screaming orgasm? The way I see it, you’d be begging for me to give it to you.”

 This knocked her off-balance, and her lips parted; I could see why she got a thrill out of doing it to me.

 Before she had time to react, I shook my head, pressing my finger to her open mouth, “You’re not in charge anymore.”

 I could see the heavy desire in the green of her eyes as they widened. If she wasn’t turned on before, she definitely was now.

 “Time to go?”

 I wasn’t making a suggestion. I was making an order.

 She just silently nodded her head and slid her hand into mine, pulling me out of the crowds.

 Not a word transpired between us as we exited the club, nor as she opened the door of a sleek black car, indicating for me to get in first. I eased back into the comforts of the leather, my heart pounding wildly in my chest.

 This was really happening.

 “Are you going back to your hotel, Madam?” The driver was well suited up, his gloved hand resting on the steering wheel as he glanced at the woman over his shoulder. She just inclined her head, maintaining her composure.

 But I could see the lust set deep in her eyes.

 It took every ounce of my self-control not to reach over and take her right where she was sitting.

 By the way her fists clenched in her lap, I could tell she was having a similar thought process.

 Moments later, we’d arrived outside a fancy hotel – I’d have given the descriptive details, but honestly, I couldn’t focus on anything else except the pale green stare locked on mine.

 Within seconds, she’d pushed me into the lift, backing me up against the mirror, “Not in charge?” She asked, quietly.

 It seemed my comment had stuck.

 I gave her only a smirk in response, knowing it would likely piss her off all the more.

 It did.

 Her hand gripped onto my hip harshly, letting the severity of her stare drive into me – and yes, it was unnerving. But my smirk only widened. Her mouth drew closer to mine, and I could taste the dizzying sweetness on her breath. Everything about her stretched my desire.

 The instant the lift doors opened, she pulled away, her fingers linking with mine as she pulled me to her hotel room. With ease, she unlocked the door – there was no fumbling I was used to experiencing with one-night flings at hotels. She swiped the card, opened the door, dragged me inside, and kicked it closed.

 I barely had time to breathe before she was on me, shoving my back into the wall, her lips finally finding mine.

 The force of her kiss was staggering, and the thud of my spine colliding with the wall sent a small shudder over my skin.

 Her teeth clamped on my lower lip, dragging it roughly into her mouth.

  _Holy shit._

 I couldn’t help the small moan that tumbled from my throat as she moved her thigh between my legs, letting the pressure roll against me. But the second she thought she’d reclaimed her throne, I yanked my arm from her hold and jabbed her back a step, tangling my hand into her hair and directing her towards the bed, “No. You’re not in charge.” I resolved, throatily.

 She gave me one exposed glance before I felt her legs hit the edge of the mattress. I reached behind her, finding the zip at the back of her black dress and jerked it down so the material fell from her shoulders. I couldn’t help but let my eyes roam. She was wearing a dark matching lace set, the colour complimenting her skin tone.

 As I’d vaguely imagined on the dancefloor, her stomach was trimly toned, along with the rest of her figure, despite her slender curves. She didn’t just act tough as nails – it seemed she _was_.

 I already wanted to drag my nails over her torso.

 She let me look, her breast heaving with each breath.

 Once I was just about satisfied I’d examined each inch of her body twice over, I began to step out of my dress, kicking it to one side.

 This was like a cliché porno scene – two girls getting off in underwear and heels.

 Well, she was wearing thick heeled boots, showing the smallest hint of Gothicism.

 But I was already destroying the image by kicking off my shoes and crouching down to undo her laces.

 She watched me, her gaze thick with anticipation.

 Once I’d untied both boots, I barked a husky demand, “Sit.”

 She complied – surprisingly – and lowered herself to the bed so I could raise up each leg in turn and ease off her footwear.

 With a clunk, they both hit the floor next to mine, but I remained crouching, my eyes staying on hers the entire time.

 I knew she was quickly losing the will to gain her dominance back. It was pretty obvious she wasn’t used to having somebody fight back more than once.

 Slowly, I ran my fingers along the underside of her calf, up to the bend of her knee. I did so deliberately, knowing that the change of pace would throw her off. Pushing her legs apart so I was kneeling between them, I relocated my hands to her thighs, moving them over her skin to tuck beneath the elastic of her underwear. Her breath caught in her throat as I began to pull the material down.

 It ended up in a pile along with the rest of the discarded items.

 Pressing my lips to her inner thigh, I kissed my way upwards, finding the spot between her legs with my tongue. The soft sound emitting from her lips was enough to make me sweat. As I moved my mouth, pushing my fingers to join, her hand tangled into my hair, gripping onto me hard.

 I didn’t relent.

 Not for a moment.

 Not until I felt her thighs crush my head and her muscles convulse around me.

 Not until I heard her scream.

 And she did.

 I hated admitting it. But it was the sexiest sound I’d heard in a long time – smooth, yet hoarse, both at the same time.

 The pain of her fingers in my hair and her legs wrapping around me equalled the pleasure it caused.

 I expected her to collapse backwards, but she didn’t. She controlled her breathing after a few heated seconds before she released me, her eyes opening and finding mine.

 I gave her a breathless smirk, coyly wiping my mouth with the back of my hand.

 “Stand up.” She whispered.

 I raised an eyebrow, “What?”

 “I said: stand up.”

 Slowly, I pulled myself to my feet, eyeing her with caution.

 She stood with me, pressing her front to mine subtly, “I want you to lay on the bed, Clarke.”

 Without questioning her, I moved to the mattress, leaning back into the pillows, refusing to let my eyes leave hers for a second.

 She was still wearing her bra, and I caught myself wishing I’d taken that off earlier. I didn’t expect I’d get the chance now… I knew she was plotting her revenge.

 And a sick part of me loved it.

 She tossed her hair back over her shoulders and knelt on the bed, “Take off your underwear.”

 I did.

 I cast the fabric around my middle to the floor.

 This time it was her turn to scrape her eyes over my body, although she appeared unsatisfied. I raised an eyebrow as she edged towards me, “Roll over.”

 I did that too.

 With one quick flick of her fingers, my bra snapped open. Her fingers pulled down my spine, moving to my rear. She clipped the skin with her fingertips, allowing herself a handful before she dragged me by my hip to lay on my back once again. My pale blue bra was swiftly plucked from my body and tossed nonchalantly to the floor. Once again, she subjected me to a thorough appraisal, her lower lip moving to rest beneath her teeth; any impression of dissatisfaction had quickly dispersed, leaving only raw appreciation on her features – even if her jaw was set, determined to keep her uncaring reputation intact.

 Lowering her lips to my breast and settling her teeth on skin, she pressed her thumb into the front of my hip (a particular sensitive spot for me), and seemed to enjoy the way I arched my back from the bedding.

 “You like that.” She murmured, raising her head up and examining my facial expression – God only knew what it was doing.

 She returned her mouth to my skin, running her tongue down my sternum, over my stomach, and hesitated just above the place I wanted her the most.

 She was doing this on purpose.

 She wanted me to beg.

 I moved my hand to her hair, the way she had with me and grazed my nails over her scalp. _Do it_.

 The silent plea in my fingers seemed to suffice, and she finally pressed her mouth over the heat between my legs, sending a wave of pre-gratification through my blood.

 She fucked me exactly the way I knew she would; controlled, intense, deep.

 She was giving me this pleasure as punishment.

 My other hand curled into the bedding, gripping at the sheets as she pushed herself in and out of me, over and over.

 I tried clamping my teeth over my lip to prevent the strained sounds leaving my mouth, but I knew she could hear me struggle; if anything it made her work harder, driving me to the brink of white-hot fulfilment, and slowing her movements to let me peer over the edge. I could feel the ache of anticipation swell. Her eyes flickered up to mine, her lips raising from my flesh for just long enough to utter a command, “Scream.”

 Even if I’d have wanted to keep my silence, I couldn’t.

 Her mouth disappeared and she pushed me over the edge in blinding pleasure.

 I cursed loudly, my body convulsing before the curve of my spine hit the bed.

 She only stopped moving once my body began to relax in recovery.

 Pulling away from me and drawing herself upright, she let her eyes scan my helpless form once more.

 She didn’t need to speak, and neither did I.

 We’d both gotten what we deserved.

 We’d both gotten what we desired.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Following a night of drunken haze and unbridled pleasure, Clarke Griffin attempts to resume normality. Or, at least, whatever normality was for her. When working a particularly difficult night shift at ER, an unexpected event unfolds, leaving her to deal with a challenging emergency. To cope with the after-effects of such an affair, Clarke seeks a distraction from elsewhere.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I highly appreciate the support I've received for the first chapter of this story. Admittedly, I wasn't expecting such a kind response from you all. So, thank you to everybody who took the time to leave a comment or kudos.
> 
> *SPOILER ALERT*
> 
> For those of you still concerned about Niylah's involvement in this story, there is a very minute part of this chapter that does involve her. Again, I would like to stress that this is a story focusing on Clarke and Lexa's relationship and Niylah will not affect their development. 
> 
> Fully aware I may have put some of you off and I apologise for that. Also fully aware that I probably just made it seem worse and that I should've just stopped typing after my first sentence. But, I do understand your frustrations about reading stories that start out good and then end up being a disappointment. So, there you have it. It would be great if you still gave this story a chance despite your potential reservations.

.::.

 

 Regaining my composure wasn’t easy. Especially with the way she continued to look at me – even after we’d both gotten our (literal) fill.

 She watched me from kneeling position on the bed as I spun my legs over the edge of the mattress, hoisting myself upright. I could still feel her pale gaze burning into my skin as I leaned down to grab my clothes, making a little show of it as I slowly dressed myself.

 “You’re leaving?”

 My austere stranger raised an eyebrow at me as my feet found their place in my heels. I mirrored her expression, my face turning to glance at her over my shoulder, “Isn’t that what’s supposed to happen now?” I countered, reaching for my purse to pluck my phone from the inside pocket.

 “I don’t know.”

 I felt the scornful laugh leave my lips before I heard it, “You don’t know.” I scoffed, “Like this isn’t something that happens every other night for you.”

 As expected, I’d received multiple missed calls and messages from both Blake siblings.

 My olive-skinned stranger pulled herself to her feet, not taking the time to clothe herself – which proved to be an inconvenient distraction for me, “Usually the others aren’t in such a hurry to escape…”

 Eventually, I managed to respond to Octavia, briefly informing her I was fine and that I’d see her in the morning, “Careful.” I began, “Or I’ll start thinking you _want_ me to stay.”

 Surely, this was perfect for her. She was getting let off the hook easy. But the guarded edge returned to her tone and she continued to eye me steadily, “Have it your way.”

 I pulled a cigarette from the packet and placed it between my teeth as I adjusted the strap on my purse, “You know I always do.” I smirked around the item in my mouth, dropping the strap of my purse over my shoulder.

 “You haven’t even asked me my name.” She commented quietly, as though she’d at least expected me to demonstrate some personal interest in her.

 I took the cigarette from my teeth and tucked it behind my ear, “I wasn’t aware I’d need it.” Walking over to the door, and pulling the handle, I looked over at her to get one final glimpse of her finely formed body, “Thanks for the screaming orgasm.” I left her with a wink, closing the door firmly behind me.

…

 “You _slept_ with her?”

 “We had sex.” I corrected pedantically with a roll of my eyes, my hands cupping around the hot mug of coffee in my lap, “Then I left.”

 Octavia smirked and stretched her legs out on the sofa, “Just like that?”

 “Just like that.”

 “How was it?” She asked, sipping her drink.

 “It was…” The recollection of the raw heat hit me hard and I paused, the colour rising to my cheeks, “Well, it was…” I tried again, unsure how to continue from that point.

 This earned me a mocking laugh from my best friend as she tilted her head back, “Jesus, do I even want to know?”

 “Probably not.” I responded, sinking further into the cushions.

 This was easily my favourite part of sharing my apartment with my closest friend; hungover coffee chats.

 “What did you end up doing after?” I asked.

 “You mean after you ditched us?” She quipped with a raise of her eyebrow.

 “After I was _abducted_.” I returned, taking a long sip of my coffee, feeling my body finally begin to revive itself.

 “We went back into the club… Bellamy pulled some trashy girl and left early, so Linc and I came back here. He’s still crashed out in my bed.”

 “So, when are you guys moving in together?” I smirked, knowing how touchy the subject of anything serious regarding her relationship was to her.

 “Now. He’s going to be a permanent fixture in your apartment.”

 I grimaced, “Okay, okay. Point taken. We won’t talk about that.”

 Octavia laughed and reached for a cookie, “I’m more intrigued about what made you change your mind about sleeping with the mysterious womaniser. Seems you gave into her after all… I’m most disappointed in you, Clarke Griffin.”

 “Are you sure you want to know what made up my mind for me…?” I arched an eyebrow, amused at the manner in which the corners of her mouth turned down.

 “In a car crash kind of way.”

 That was our way of defining: twisted interest.

 She didn’t want to hear about my sex life, just as I didn’t want to hear about hers. Yet, we couldn’t seem to stop ourselves asking anyway. Kind of like seeing a car crash and hating every moment of the image… but still looking at it out of twisted interest and the inability to look elsewhere.

 Well, she’d asked…

 I explained in the most uncultured of detail every part of our exchange I could recall – even exaggerating a little, just for the kicks of watching Octavia’s expression twist in sheer disgust.

 “…So I pulled off her knickers, which were hot black lace by the way, and–”

 “–Okay! Jesus. That’s enough. I can’t. I’m going to throw up my coffee.” She took a traumatised bite of her cookie and shuddered visibly.

 “I don’t know what all the fuss is about.” I teased, “A small part of you likes it. I’ll convert you to women sooner or later… Lincoln would _love_ it.”

 That cost me a half-eaten cookie to the head.

 “Lincoln would love what?”

 Octavia glanced up at the sound of her boyfriend’s voice, placing her mug down on the table as she stood up, strutting over to him. She wrapped her arms around his neck, sparing me a wicked smile before she leaned forwards and greeted him with a deep kiss to his lips.

 I harvested the half-eaten cookie and launched it right back at her head, “Cut it out. You’re gross.”

 Laughing, and pecking his lips one final time, Octavia headed off to make him a coffee.

 “I was simply saying how much you’d love it if Octavia was into girls too.” I remarked innocently.

 Lincoln seemed to genuinely consider this for a moment as he sat down at the other end of the sofa Octavia had been lounging on, and shrugged, “It’s a visual I could get used to.”

 His girlfriend shot him a warning glare over her shoulder as she spooned sugar into his drink, “Carry on, and I’ll ban you from boobs for a week.”

 He laughed softly and stretched one large arm over the back of the sofa, “Yeah, right. They’d miss me too much.”

 “I wouldn’t worry, Lincoln. They’d get the attention from another girl.” I chimed, content with stirring the pot further.

 Octavia scowled and returned to the sofa, “That coffee of yours is going to end up all over your head in a minute, Griffin.”

 Laughing impishly, I just leaned my head back against the cushion, “Shut up. You love it.”

…

 The commencing couple of weeks had left me largely exhausted. I’d been spending most of my time studying for upcoming medical exams, working at the hospital, and sleeping as and when I could fit it in.

 Tonight was my final shift. I was covering ER on a Saturday night – more commonly referred to as the graveyard shift.

 I’d not been given the time to even take a pee break (not that I needed one), but it was one of those shifts where you blinked, and immediately wondered who’s life you could’ve just costed by doing so.

 “Your blood pressure is still elevated… Try and aim for the sick bowl next time, ma’am… Please don’t take your drip out… No, you can’t booze in here, sir.” The words were leaving my lips but I was so drained, I was barely aware I was even speaking.

 The sound of my pager bleeping in my pocket made me glance down. Another emergency. I followed a bustle of healthcare assistants towards the Red Bay, wondering how I still had the energy to keep up.

 Instantly my eyes locked on a scene of chaos. A huge bearded gentleman was lying unconscious on the bed, covered in blood – although I wasn’t entirely sure it was all his.

 “What happened?” I asked, pulling on a pair of non-latex gloves as I neared his bedside.

 One of the assistants filled me in, “Bouncer. Confrontation at the club. The clubber pulled a knife. He’s lost a lot of blood.”

 He was already hooked up to the vital signs monitor, but they were looking pretty shaky, “Get the de-fib just in case.” I muttered, right before the sudden horror of recognition hit me.

 It was _the_ bouncer. From the club.

  _Shit_.

 How had somebody managed to pull a knife on him?

 “Keep applying the pressure on his wounds.” I instructed, wondering where the qualified doctor was and why it always took them so goddamn long to arrive, “What’s his blood type?” I asked.

 One of the assistants standing by shrugged, “I don’t know.”

 She continued to stand, motionless by my side.

  _For god’s sake_.

 “Can you find out?” I turned to her, the stress leaking into my tone, “His ID is strapped on his arm. Look him up on the system and find out from his notes.

 “Right.” She nodded quickly, writing out his name on her hand before she dashed off to find an available computer.

 “Keep holding the wounds.” I told the other assistants, “I need to contact the senior doctor.”

 I reached for my pager, trying to alert the ward’s senior, but received no indication that I’d been heard.

 “AB positive.” The assistant had returned with a packet of blood and I nodded. Good.

 “Okay, great. Try contact a doctor for me while I set up the IV.”

 “Dr Griffin, he – he’s not breathing.”

 “What?” I glanced over at the assistant pressing a bandage to his stomach, “Begin CPR!”

 I reached over for the defibrillator kit and grabbed a pair of scissors and turned back to the bouncer, slicing through his top while the assistant performed the rescue breaths. I pressed the pads to his torso, waiting for the machine to turn on.

 Where the fuck was the doctor?

 “Amy!” I spied one of the nurses hurrying past the bay, “Patient in resus. Can you set up the IV, please? Clear!” I shouted, as the assistants drew away so I could send the shock through his body.

 I checked for a pulse.

 Nothing.

 “Clear!” I exclaimed once more.

 No pulse.

  _Fuck_.

 “Clear!” I repeated, moving my fingers to his neck once the jolt had passed through his system. I exhaled in relief, feeling the throb of his pulse in his neck, and hearing the bleeps from the monitor start up again, “We have a pulse.” I breathed in relief, “Take off the de-fib. I need the blood.” I reached for the IV tube and attached it to a needle, grabbing his arm to find the most prominent vein. It was difficult considering the veins had clamped down to conserve blood flow. He’d lost a lot.

 I managed to locate one after a moment, and pushed the needle in, setting off the drip immediately.

 Okay.

 I fell back a step to catch my breath.

 He was alive.

 Still unconscious, but alive.

 Where was the _goddamn_ senior doctor?

 Still no sign of him.

 I stood by the bouncer’s bedside, examining the monitor to make sure he didn’t relapse.

 After a couple of minutes, I heard one of the nurses speak from behind me, “How’s he doing? There’s somebody waiting just around the corner for news.”

 I nodded, “Okay, tell them to come here.”

 She nodded and turned away, disappearing behind the curtain.

 At the sound of footsteps, I turned, suddenly realising my uniform was stained red with blood. Not the best image for the visitor.

 I glanced up, opening my mouth to speak, “I just want to apologise that the senior doc–”

 Then my heart stopped dead, my eyes confronted by a pale green stare.

  _Bollocks_.

 

.::.

 

I’d contemplated going to Polis club tonight, but I’d changed my mind.

 It had been a long week.

 Reading a book in bed with a cup of tea was the more favourable option.

 I hadn’t even felt like fucking the night away with some nameless face either.

 Just as I closed the novel and reached over to turn off the light, I heard the violent vibration of my phone on the bedside table.

 This had better be important.

 I leaned over and glanced at the caller ID. Indra, the security officer in charge of the doors.

 She rarely phoned me – especially if she knew I didn’t want to be disturbed on nights such as tonight.

 “Yes?”

 “ _I’m sorry to call you. But there’s been an emergency. Gustus got jumped by a knife. He’s been stabbed. There’s an ambulance on the way, but I thought you should know_.”

 I was silent for a moment before I replied, keeping my voice even as I stood up.

 “I’m on my way. Call the police and keep it contained.”

 “ _Already done_.”

 I ended the call and reached over for a pair of jeans from my dresser, pulling a jumper on over my head. I grabbed my coat and bag, not caring in the slightest that I barely looked presentable to be seen in public.

 None of that mattered.

 I unlocked my car and slid in, speeding off in the direction of Polis.

 The scene was an utter catastrophe. The police had finally arrived and were busy blocking off the scene, redirecting the huddle of panicked clubbers.

 I pulled up on the side of the road as the paramedics on sight were hoisting Gustus into the back of the ambulance. Slamming the door behind me and locking my car over my shoulder, I ran to the vehicle, “I’ll take it from here.” I told Indra, resting a hand on her shoulder briefly, “I’ll keep you updated.”

 One of the police officers looked down at me and shook his head, “Ma’am, you need to move.”

 I raised my eyebrows and knocked his hand from my elbow, “Out of my way.” I demanded, heading over to the paramedic who was about to shut the doors.

 “Wait.” I held up a hand, and he caught my eye, already shaking his head.

 “Sorry, Miss, I can’t let you in here.”

 I fixed my gaze on his and took a step forwards, “But you will. This is my club. He is my employee. Let me in.”

 He blinked, his lips parting in surprise, before he nodded hurriedly, “Of course.”

 I stepped up into the back of the vehicle and let him close the doors behind me.

 The hospital was close enough not to require the air ambulance, although transporting Gustus into the ER took a little longer as more manpower was required due to his weight.

 All I could do was watch, uselessly.

 I wanted to go to him, but I knew I’d only get in the way.

 “Okay, there’s a medic on the way. They will carry on from us. Just wait here please. For your own sake. I don’t want it to be traumatising for you, and the staff will need to concentrate.”

 I didn’t need to hear it.

 Just because I was a young woman, people assumed I needed talking to like a child.

 I could hear the voices from his curtained off compartment.

 But that was when I heard the worst.

 “Begin CPR!”

 Instinctively, I began to walk down the corridor towards him, but a nurse held out her arm in front of me.

 “You’re urged to stay here, ma’am.”

 I struggled deeply with myself before consenting. It was for the best.

 “Clear!”

 I waited.

 “Clear!”

 My chest tightened.

 “Clear!”

 I couldn’t listen. But I had no choice.

 My pulse thudded loudly in my head, although my expression remained unchanged. I couldn’t let on that I was scared for him. Not yet.

 That would make this real.

 I caught the arm of a nurse bustling past me, “Can you tell me what’s going on at the end bay?”

 She paused, “The senior doctor should be here soon. In the meantime, our junior should be available to speak in a moment. Let me check.”

 The doctor wasn’t even there?

 I could feel my anger swell, just before the assistant returned.

 The junior would get a serving from me.

 I was not in the mood to be tested.

 “He’s stable enough for you to go to him now.” She informed me and I inclined my head, striding with purpose to the curtains before I knocked them out of my way.

 The junior had her back to me, her blonde hair pulled back into an unkempt ponytail. There had better be good news.

 After a couple of seconds, she spun around, her head lowered as she examined her blood-doused uniform.

 “I just want to apologise that the senior doc–” She began, raising her head up to acknowledge me, before she cut herself short.

 It took me a split second to realise why. But then my anger dispelled instantly, my eyes flickering as they met deep, exhausted blue.

 She appeared just as shocked as I was numb, her entire body frozen.

 “I’m here!” A man dressed in an expensive tailored suit, whom one could assume was the senior doctor, announced his presence before I could speak, moving past me almost as if I wasn’t there, “I was on resus elsewhere. What needs to be done?”

 The familiar pissy expression settled over Clarke’s features, quickly overturning her disbelief, and she sent the doctor an irritated stare, “Nothing now. Just a check-over.”

 He nodded, wiping his hands on his white coat, “This de-fib needs packing up, Griffin. Have you spoken to family yet?”

 Her fury expanded visibly, and I watched her take a deep breath to calm herself. There was no way she was packing up the defibrillator. I could tell by the set of her jaw.

 “Gustus’ visitor is here now.” She remarked, “I was about to speak to her.”

 The senior nodded and glanced over at me briefly, “I’ll complete a check-up. This is Dr Griffin.” He waved a hand in Clarke’s vague direction, “She will keep you informed while I assess him.”

_Dr Griffin_. It had a certain ring to it.

 Clarke closed her eyes for a moment, and I was willing to bet the senior doctor would cop for a punch from her if he continued the way he was. Without another word, she stepped outside his compartment and closed the curtain behind her, peeling the gloves from her hands, “I’m very sorry for the doctor’s delay, and for the state of my scrubs. And, of course, about Gustus.”

 I didn’t doubt the sincerity of her words. Though, I did wonder why she seemed to be so sorry about everything. It’s not like she’d been the one to knife him. Although, I couldn’t be certain she wouldn’t inflict a similar sort of damage on the senior doctor.

 “There’s no need to apologise.” I said, and I meant it, already feeling a little guilty for my previous resentment towards the junior, when it appeared she had been bending over backwards to save Gustus’ life.

 She sent me a well-practiced smile and tossed the gloves and apron in the clinical waste bin, “At the moment, I can’t tell you fully what’s to be expected of his recovery until the senior finishes his check-up.” She took a step towards me, masking whatever thoughts were currently raging through her head. If there even were any.

 Even in our current situation, I couldn’t ignore the way my body craved to be closer to hers.

 “Unfortunately, we did have to resuscitate him. He’d lost a lot of blood, but the good news is that Gustus is stable for the moment.” Clarke told me, “I’ve hooked him up to an IV, and it shouldn’t be too long before his blood level balances out again.”

 I nodded, not bothering to try and articulate my thoughts into words. It would take too much effort.

 “ _Griffin_.”

 Clarke straightened out her chin and lifted her head up, “I’m so sorry. I’ll be out in a moment. Feel free to take a seat.” She turned away from me and ducked back behind the curtains.

 I didn’t ‘take a seat’.

 I remained exactly where I was.

 I could hear their voices but it was difficult to determine exactly what they were saying, and I knew I’d find out sooner or later anyway.

 Some immeasurable moments later, both doctors pushed back the curtains and allowed me to see Gustus.

 He looked dreadful, but at least his face had been cleaned up somewhat.

 At least he was breathing.

 “Griffin, I’ll let you fill this young lady in. I’m required elsewhere. And put that de-fib away!”

 Clarke didn’t dignify him with a response and just took a step to the side so I could move to stand beside Gustus’ bed.

 “Would you like to discuss this privately, or would you rather be nearby?”

 I was mildly impressed at her ability to maintain professionalism considering the stress she’d just undergone, as well as finding me on the other side of the curtain. Then again, it was her job, I supposed.

 But, to tell the truth, this had been a little more than I’d bargained for myself.

 “Here’s fine.” I moved to close the curtains behind us, shutting out the external commotion.

 “Is there anybody else here who needs informing?” She asked, indicating for me to take a seat.

 I shook my head and obediently leaned back into the chair, crossing one leg over the other, as she sat adjacent to me.

 “Gustus has sustained some serious injuries. Luckily, the knife didn’t go too deep as to rupture any internal organs as far as we can tell, so at the moment there are no indications that he’s bleeding internally. But we will need to keep checking up on his wounds to make absolutely certain.” She took a breath, and gave me a moment to process the information. I inclined my head for her to continue, my eyes running over her face.

 Clarke was doing well to conceal any trace of exhaustion she felt, although the slump of her shoulders gave it away to me. She blinked twice, clearing her throat as she broke her eyes away from mine, “We will be regularly monitoring his vital signs until he’s had enough blood to be operated on.”

 “He’ll be okay?” I asked, keeping my voice matter-of-fact. I didn’t want her to see me as anything other than the heartless club-owner she knew me to be. Not right then. Not while we were both so exposed.

 “We will do everything we can to aid his recovery.” She told me carefully, her eyes shifting back to mine, the peculiar heat automatically crawling over my arms, “At the moment, it’s looking promising. It is important to note that his condition can change at any time, but that doesn’t mean it will. We just need to keep checking up on him. Hopefully, he will wake sooner rather than later so we can properly assess his condition.”

 I sighed, willing my spine not to fold.

 I knew her eyes were still on me, “I’ll get you a coffee.” She said softly, standing up.

 “It’s okay.” I replied, tenaciously.

 She ignored me anyway, “Sugar?”

 My gaze drifted to land on hers, and I knew she wasn’t going to take no for an answer.

 Obviously.

 “No. Black.”

 My response seemed to amuse her and she offered me the smallest hint of a smirk, forgetting herself for a moment, “I could’ve placed a bet on that. I’ll be right back.”

 I watched her leave, resting my teeth on my lower lip.

 Her comment confused me, but relieved me all the same. I was beginning to think she was going to crack under the strain of her professionalism.

 Then again, a part of me might’ve enjoyed it.

 

.::.

 

She had black coffee written all over her. None of this softcore sugar and milk business.

 I leaned back against the counter once I’d grabbed a fresh pair of scrubs from the linen cupboard, taking a number of deep breaths.

 Was I being too professional?

 I mean, sure I had to respect boundaries – but this was somebody I’d fucked. Hard.

 This was somebody who’d fucked me back. Harder.

 How was I supposed to act?

 Especially in such a serious situation.

 I mixed the granules into the steaming water, adding a few drops of cold.

 It was only a matter of time before she figured out what I did for a living. She always seemed to get what she wanted one way or another.

  _God. What an awful thing to think._

 I bit my lip shamefully. It wasn’t like she’d wanted this to happen to Gustus. She’d tried to cloak her concern with a stony façade. But she wouldn’t be here if she didn’t care.

 I stared at my reflection in the mirror, dreading to see who looked back at me. As predicted, I looked pretty goddamn shocking.

 And my hair…!

 I yanked it out of the ponytail and tried the best I could to smooth it, retying it up in the elastic. God. Now she was going to think I was making an effort…

 I grimaced at myself, moving away from the mirror and picking up her coffee; I’d considered taking an espresso shot myself, but I figured my heart didn’t need any more surprises tonight.

 “Here.” I handed the cup over to her upon my return, scanning her appearance quickly.

 She looked a little worn herself, her face lacking the dark eye makeup she’d donned that night. She was in full black; skinny jeans and a long hanging jumper. It should’ve made her seem more human, but her expression betrayed nothing.

 Even dressed down, this club-owner was fierce.

 “How are you feeling?” I asked her, my tone edging on cautious.

 She sipped the coffee, and ran her eyes over my face – and my hair. Jesus, she knew I’d redone it.

 “Fine.” She shrugged one shoulder lazily, “Better than Gustus.”

 I nodded, occupying myself with recording his vital signs, writing on the clipboard hooked over his bedpost.

 “You saved his life.”

 Her comment was unexpected, causing my pen to pause over the paper momentarily, “That’s what I’m here for.” I was trying desperately not to let the sensation of being close to her overrun my mentality, and so I continued the conversation in the hopes I would stop seeing her standing naked before me, “He’s strong.”

 She was silent, contemplating her next words carefully, before she finally spoke again, “I didn’t ask him to blackmail you.”

 “Blackmail?” I almost scoffed, hanging Gustus’ clipboard back on the bedpost.

 “Yes. At the club. He noticed me watching you.”

 Impulsively, my gaze switched to hers. I shouldn’t have been startled by the way she was looking at me, but her intensity wasn’t something one could become easily accustomed to.

 “He meant well… It was his idea to ask you to join me. I hadn’t asked him to fetch you because I already knew you’d say no.”

 My head dropped to one side, my fingers resting on the headboard, “And how did you know that?”

 “How did you know I take my coffee black?” She returned, unblinking.

  _Touché_.

 I could feel the threats of a smile on my lips, and to avoid giving her the satisfaction of seeing it, I faced away from her, wondering why I was still standing here.

 I knew I had other things to do. Resus paperwork. Filling out Gustus’ notes. Seeing to other patients.

 But my body was disinclined to exit.

 “So, how come you’re here alone?” I asked, knowing I was probably toeing the borders of my job description, “Don’t club-owners normally have a trail of security following them everywhere?”

 “I was in bed.” She replied, shutting down the conversation.

 I glanced away, biting my lip.

  _Idiot, Clarke._

 But yet, there was something alien about picturing her alone in bed (if she’d even been alone in bed, which I doubted the more I thought about it), and then receiving a phone call about her bouncer. It made her seem kind of vulnerable.

 A large part of me hung on that thought. Who was she when she was alone?

 “I didn’t have you pinned down as a medic.” She changed the flow of conversation effortlessly, dragging me from my thoughts.

 “No?” I met her stare once again, “And what did you have me pinned down as?”

 She tossed her empty cup into the bin sitting in the corner of the compartment, “I didn’t. I can’t seem to figure you out, Dr Griffin.”

 The way she’d addressed me shouldn’t have turned me on.

 But it did.

 “Well, I guess I can’t keep my secrets for ever. You seem to have a knack for getting what you want.”

 No matter how weakened she may have felt, my mysterious club-owner reserved her elegance. She let her leg hang gracefully over her opposite thigh, her foot swaying inches above the laminate flooring.

 She said nothing, but observed me for the thousandth time, her hands folded neatly in her lap.

 The thickness of the air between us was palpable.

 I cleared my throat, “I’ll go inform the doctor that Gustus should be ready for surgery soon. His drip is almost complete.”

 My stranger nodded, “Thank you, Clarke.”

 I pressed my lips together lightly as I headed towards the curtain, “See you soon.”

…

 I hadn’t seen her again that shift. I’d been called on for another emergency, and hadn’t gotten the chance to check up on her – well, Gustus – again.

 Unfortunately, the patient in the latter emergency hadn’t been so lucky. I hated walking away from the hospital at the end of a shift with the weight of a person’s life hanging on my shoulders.

 The car park was dimly lit by the approaching sunrise, and I stifled a yawn, sliding into the front seat. A cigarette, and the thought of having tomorrow off, were the only things getting me through the drive home.

 The past couple of weeks had almost finished me off.

 I pulled up outside my apartment and trailed up the stairs, unlocking the door and mumbling a dead “hello” to Octavia as she passed me on her way out to work.

 “Morning, sunshine.” She returned, and I let her sort out locking up as I shut myself away in my room, finally collapsing into bed.

 When I eventually woke, it was some time in the mid-afternoon.

 I lay in bed, caught in the groggy state of needing to get up to pee and eat, but not wanting to remove myself from the comforts of the quilts.

 I hated myself for it, but the first trail of thought my mind took me on was the memory of seeing green eyes the night before.

 I ran my hand through my hair and pushed myself upright. I needed to get with somebody else. Thinking about her was getting me wound up and I wasn’t sure why.

 I knew there was somebody I could call on. I also knew I would hate myself for it afterwards.

 

  _To: Niylah_

_Busy tonight?_

 I dropped my phone back onto the pillow and stretched, not massively taken aback when I received a response almost immediately.

 I read the text from my screen, smirking to myself slightly.

 

  _From: Niylah_

_Drinks on you._

 

.::.

 

 I’d left the hospital a few hours after Gustus had been through surgery, hoping I’d get to see him wake up.

 He hadn’t.

 I hated leaving, but I had to. There was no point torturing myself over and over, willing him to make himself conscious.

 I exhaled and phoned for a ride back to my car which I’d left sitting outside Polis.

 I needed sleep.

 It had been a long night for a number of reasons. Not just because of Gustus.

 Seeing Clarke had drained whatever motivation I’d had to keep my walls up. She’d seen me half-vulnerable, and that would cost me.

 Once I’d arrived back at the club, I called Indra from my car, resting both hands on the steering wheel.

 She answered almost instantaneously, already asking about Gustus; she sounded as though she’d not had even a second of sleep.

 “He’s stable. But he hasn’t woken up yet. I’m going to spend the day there tomorrow.”

 “ _I guess that’s as good news as I could hope for. I thought… I thought he wasn’t going to make it._ ”

 I slowed down at a stop light and tilted my head back, catching sight of the time on the dashboard.

 10:07 PM.

 That meant I hadn’t slept in 28 hours.

 “He nearly didn’t. He had to be resuscitated.” My thoughts trained on the image of seeing Clarke standing in her bloody scrubs, utterly bone-weary. Then they flickered to her expression when I’d referred to her as Dr Griffin; an uninvited and inappropriate intervention in my mind.

 But one that left me wanting all the same.

 “ _Thank god he made it._ ”

 “How are you?” I asked, hoping to stir the content of my thoughts into something more suitable for the situation.

 “ _I’m fine. Spent all of last night at the police station. A man has been arrested, but I won’t hear how the interrogation pans out until tomorrow._ ”

 I sighed, pulling up in my drive and switching off the ignition, disconnecting the Bluetooth of my phone to the car to continue the conversation as the electronic gates locked themselves up behind me.

 “ _I want the man responsible and any other person involved to pay for what they’ve done._ ”

 “They will.” I promised softly, “I’ll make sure of it. This won’t be forgiven, and it won’t be forgotten.”

 “ _I know that. I know you’ll serve him justice_.”

 “Of course. Anyway, I have to go. I’m home now. I’ll speak to you tomorrow.” I hung up once I’d hooked my coat on the peg, turning towards the staircase.

 Gustus’ attacker was playing a highly dangerous game. I’d meant my words.

 There was no room for redemption for a sin like this.

 Blood was paid for by blood.

 

.::.

 

 “You have to go?”

 I sighed and ran a hand through my hair, blindly reaching through the dark for my underwear, “I’m sorry, Niylah. That was my mother on the phone. She needs me to head into the hospital tomorrow afternoon for a couple of hours.”

 “I thought tomorrow was your day off.” The tattooed woman with dirty blonde hair leaned against the headboard, her arms folded across her heaving breast.

 “As did I.” I muttered, zipping up my jeans, my mood depleting more rapidly with each second that passed.

 “Can’t you say no? You never stay over.”

 I glanced over to her and exhaled wearily, “I’m sorry. I’ll call you later.”

 Once I’d located the rest of my clothing, I called for a taxi and headed to the door.

 We both knew I was lying. I wasn’t going to call her.

 I never did.

 Niylah had never really been an infatuation for me. To be honest, I’d gotten with her the first time out of convenience. I was pissed off at some love interest or other and she was more than willing to distract me. I suppose it had become a habit to use her as a distraction – despite the fact I never felt satisfied afterwards. Physically, sure. I usually got what I wanted at the end. But, I knew I was a horrible person for doing it to her because I knew she’d always wanted a little more than just what was between my legs. But, now… I’d had a _real_ taste of distraction. So, how could I feel satisfied distracting myself from another distraction? Did any of this even make any sense whatsoever?

 God, my head hurt.

 As soon as the taxi pulled up outside my apartment, I paid the driver and pushed the door shut, hearing my name getting called out from a few paces away.

 Glancing over my shoulder, I caught sight of Octavia strolling towards me.

 “Hey. You just finished work?”

 “Yeah. You just finished fucking around?” She smirked, ducking under my arm to enter the building first.

 “Is it that obvious?”

 “Clarke, you have her lipstick all over your neck. Wait, is that Niylah’s colour? I thought you’d palmed her off weeks ago.”

 I just rolled my eyes, following her up the stairs, wiping at the marks on my throat.

 “You’re the fuck-boy that everybody writes indirect quotes about on social media.” She continued, “So, what excuse did you use to leave this time?”

 I groaned, “Firstly, I’m a girl–”

 “–Fine. A fuck- _girl_ then–”

 “–And I didn’t need one this time. The almighty mother Griffin has summoned me into work tomorrow afternoon.”

 Octavia held the apartment door open for me, greeting the communal street cat sitting on the coffee table, “Jesus, does she ever give you a break?”

 I sighed. We both knew the answer to that.

 “Did you let The Chancellor in this morning? I didn’t realise he was here.” I asked, gesturing to the fluffy tomcat currently demanding love and affection from my hand.

 “No, somebody must have let him into the block last night. He was crying loudly outside our door at like 2AM this morning. I thought I’d better quickly bring him in before somebody kicked him or something.” Octavia crooned over him, scratching his ears lovingly, “I couldn’t just leave you out there could I, Mr Chancellor?”

 I laughed, heading into the kitchen to prepare him some food.

 He wasn’t our cat.

 I didn’t think he even had a home really. He’d just one day followed me into the apartment and refused to leave until I gave him milk. From that point on, he’d been a regular visitor. We had to keep him on the down-low, because animals were a strict no-no in this building.

 It was Octavia who’d nicknamed him The Chancellor. He was such a regal looking cat, and so expectant of our devotion, it was impossible to call him anything else.

 I’d suggested Mr Tinkles, but he didn’t seem to respond to it as well as Chancellor. So, that had just ended up sticking.

 I set him some leftover meat out in his special Chancellor-reserved saucer, and he elegantly leapt from the coffee table, partaking of his meal with grateful enthusiasm.

 “Tea.” I informed Octavia, placing her a mug down on the table as I dropped onto the sofa with my own life-saving beverage.

 “Thanks, Griffin.” She sat on the other end of the sofa, kicking her legs up onto the table, “So, when can we have another wild night out?”

 “Whenever I’m not busy being a slave to my mother’s hospital.”

 “Oh, never then.” Octavia leaned further back into the cushions, “Which is a shame… because I bet you’re dying to get your mysterious club-pimp fix.”

 “I saw her. At the hospital.” I commented, sipping my tea, “Only, you can’t tell anybody. Patient confidentiality and all.”

 “She was a patient?” Octavia raised her eyebrows in shock, as though that thought was too impossibly out of anybody’s imagination to reach.

 I shook my head, “No. That bouncer I rodded got stabbed. I had to resuscitate him. It was the most stressful shift I’ve ever worked.”

 “Oh, shit.” Octavia remarked, bluntly, “That’s a shame. He seemed like a great guy. Did you screw her in one of the clinic rooms?”

 “I wanted to when she called me Dr Griffin.” I offered her a wicked smirk, “No. Even if I’d have vaguely wanted to have sex with her and had the time to do so, I was too tired to even know my own name by the end of the night. I wouldn’t have performed. Besides, I imagine she was a little preoccupied what with her pal laying at death’s door.”

  “Pity. That would’ve been a scandal to tell wouldn’t it, Chancellor?” She grinned at the tomcat as he pounced up on the sofa to sit between us.

 I finished off my tea and scratched his head, “Are you letting him out?”

 “Yeah.” She nodded, scooping him up into her arms and carrying him over to the door, “Come on, Mr.”

 She disappeared out onto the corridor and I took our empty mugs back into the kitchen to wash up.

 I blamed Octavia for the current images flashing through my head.

 Part of me felt ashamed even admitting that the thought of taking my austere club-owner at the hospital did things to me.

 The other part of me revelled in it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you all enjoyed the change in pace of this chapter and seeing a little more context behind the characters. There will be more to come. Please feel free to leave a comment - I welcome critique and constructive feedback.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Following the attempt on Gustus' life, Clarke finds herself continuing to struggle deeply with her determination to overcome the infatuation she has for the club-owner. She learns that the knife attack on the bouncer may have been more than just a club brawl gone wrong.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Firstly, thank you all for sharing your thoughts on the progression of the story. I received a comment that suggested the POV switch is a little confusing. Would it be preferable to make the character perspectives a little clearer, e.g. writing the name of the character who's narrating beforehand? Your thoughts are much appreciated.
> 
> Even though this chapter is a little shorter than expected, I hope you still find it enjoyable.

.::.

 

  _It will just be for a couple of hours,_ she said. _Then you can go home and enjoy the rest of your day off,_ she said.

 When my mother professed I would be covering one of the other junior doctors for a ‘just a couple of hours’ at the most, I should’ve realised that three and a half hours later I wasn’t going to be leaving any time soon.

 I’d been loaned out to the depot clinic on the psychiatric ward to cover somebody’s lunch break. What was a lunch break, again?

 Saying that, I quite enjoyed the psychiatric unit – it was out of the way from the rest of the hospital, located on the top floor. Some of the patients were a lot more fun to talk to; it wasn’t like the stereotypical ‘everybody’s in danger here’ vibe that some people misperceived psychiatry to be.

 After all, we were all a little crazy.

 Well, at least I knew I was.

 I removed the needle from the patient’s right buttock and pressed a plaster over the pinprick, “And you’re good to go.”

 He thanked me and headed back out onto the ward at around the same time the other staff member returned, “Thanks, Dr Griffin. We were pretty desperate for cover.”

 I smiled and rose to my feet, tossing the gloves in the bin, “Don’t mention it. I’ll see you later.”

 I headed over to the doors, swiping my card over the scanner to unlock them at around about the same time a woman came charging towards me, her panic-stricken face fixed on mine, “Let me through!” She yelled.

 I spun around just in time for her to crash into my ribs.

 Crunch.

  _Oh, bollocks_.

 

.::.

 

 “Could you tell me where Dr Griffin is?” I rested my fingertips on the reception desk, drumming them lightly against the surface.

 The young woman observed me for a moment before she fixed her attention on the computer screen, biting her lip gently, “Dr Abby Griffin… she’s in surgery at the moment. She probably won’t be out for another 2 hours. Do you have an appointment?”

 Abby?

 “Actually, it’s Clarke Griffin I’m looking for.”

 Enlightenment fell across the receptionist’s face and she nodded, “Right. The junior. Sure… give me a moment. It’s not the first time they’ve been confused. That’s the problem with working with your mom, I guess.” She laughed, “Okay, she’s on the psychiatric unit… the top floor… but unless you have an appointment, you won’t be allowed in there. There’s a waiting room just outside the ward though. Is she expecting you?”

 “Thanks.” I replied, ignoring her question and turning away to follow the signs to the stairs.

 So, Clarke worked with her mother.

 The more I learned about her, the more she fascinated me.

 I couldn’t help but wonder whether working with her mother would be something she’d resent, or love. Something told me the former would be the more likely option.

 After hiking my way around the hospital, I eventually found said waiting room outside the ward, and took my stance against the wall. I would wait.

 She had to come out eventually.

 “ _Let me through!_ ”

 I snapped my head over to the doors leading onto the ward along with every other individual in the room.

 That was when I heard the impact resembling two bodies colliding.

 A hand flailed out from the door, and I half expected to see a human follow and tumble onto the ground. But I didn’t. I saw the blonde junior doctor fall back a step, but keep her balance, her hand clasping reflexively around the door handle.

 Impressive.

 “ _I said let me through!_ ” I could hear the voice of another woman, but I couldn’t see her face due to the door blocking my vision.

 I watched Clarke intently, waiting for her to either shout for help or crumble under the confrontation.

 Intriguingly, she simply held her ground, “Hey, slow down a minute. Tell me what’s wrong.” She spoke, her tone surprisingly smooth considering she’d just been walloped.

 “ _I need a doctor! Somebody call the police!_ ” I saw a pair of hands reach forwards and grip onto Clarke’s uniform top in effort to move her out the way.

 “Well, luckily I’m a doctor. See? There’s my ID.” Clarke continued to speak in a soothing, yet reasonable manner. She wasn’t moving.

 “ _Thank God. You need to help me._ ”

 The blonde junior inclined her head as the rest of us watched in terse anticipation, “That’s what I’m here for. Can you tell me what you need help with?” She asked, her composure remaining absolute.

 She could have almost given me a run for my money.

 “ _They’ve inserted a fucking chip into my brain. I need you to get it out for me._ ”

 Clarke seemed to consider this statement very carefully. Surely she was going to tell the woman there was nothing there and to get back onto the ward, right?

 “Are you experiencing pain?” She asked.

 “ _Are you shitting me? Of_ course _I am! I’ve just had a chip shoved into my head. Right there, look_.”

 Clarke nodded her head, “Can you describe the pain for me? Like is it a stabbing pain… throbbing? Or more of an ache?”

 “ _It’s like a throbbing… and an ache. All at the same time. Can you take it out? Please, doctor!_ ”

 “Did you see them put the chip in?”

 The woman gave an exasperated groan, “ _No. They obviously did it while I was sleeping_. _They’ve been after my thoughts for months now. But it’s sending my vision funny. I can’t see properly._ ”

 “Okay, well before I can operate, I need to do a brain scan so I can see where the problem is or if it’s definitely a chip, or if it’s something else.” I commended her ability at keeping so level-headed.

 “ _Are you even listening to me? What else could it possibly be?_ ” She demanded.

 “That’s what we’d need to check… Look, if you come back onto the ward, I can speak to the nurses and see if we can get you a CT scan booked in as soon as possible. How does that sound?”

 There was a hesitation before a male’s voice spoke from the other side of the door, “ _Come on, Marie. We’ll get you booked in and see what’s causing the pain, okay…? Thank you, Dr Griffin._ ”

 “No problem.” She smiled and moved her hand to her ribs once the door had secured itself shut.

 She took a deep breath, but I knew her oxygen fix would be short lived.

 Her eyes drifted up and locked on mine.

 I straightened my jaw and took a few steps forwards, “Do you have a minute?”

 She nodded her head sharply, her hand still clutching her side as she led me from the waiting room out onto the corridor.

 Her eyes demanded the reason behind my presence without needing to open her mouth.

 “You handled that well.” I began.

 “Uh-huh.” She muttered, the discomfort of her pain evident in her expression.

 “You’re good… with people, I mean.”

 She just raised an eyebrow at me, waiting for me to get to the point.

  _Fine_.

 Small talk had never been my thing. Neither had compliments.

 But I think I’d made that pretty obvious already.

 I chose to get straight to the point instead, “When do you get off work?”

 Clarke sent me a distasteful expression, “God fucking knows. Not soon enough. Why?”

 “I need a distraction.” I told her plainly.

 “Right, and what makes you think I can give you one?”

 Something told me that she was going to be far more of a challenge to break when sober. Although that was a foreign (and slightly frustrating) concept for me, it simply made me want to do it all the more.

 I quirked an eyebrow, “I know you can, Dr Griffin.”

 Her jaw slackened. It took everything I had not to smirk at the way she visibly fought away her body’s natural reaction to my words.

 She inched forwards a step, “Yeah? Well, if you want me to distract you, you’re going to have to try harder. You get nothing from me without a little sacrifice… and saying my title in that sinful way isn’t going to get you any further either.”

 I begged to differ.

 “You know I’d return the favour.” I said softly as her eyes fell briefly to my lips.

 “Oh, I know that.” She returned her gaze to mine, moving closer still, “But unfortunately…” Her tone dropped a level, her words leaving her throat in a husky whisper, “…we both know you enjoy making me come too much for it to be considered a sacrifice.”

 Her words tightened the tension in my stomach and I suddenly became slave to her smirk.

 “If you want me again, you’re going to have to work for it.” She continued, nonchalantly shrugging a shoulder.

 “How?” My response was quicker than I intended and it made her lips pull upwards into a diabolical smile.

  _Minx_.

 “You’re smart… and resourceful… I’m sure you can figure it out.” She straightened up to turn away but I caught her wrist.

 “Then tell me when you get off work.”

 She tore her hand from mine, not with ease, but with force.

 She wasn’t going to tell me.

 If there was one thing I hated more than anything else, it was being denied of the things I wanted. The things I desired.

 As I watched her walk away, her hips swaying with familiar confidence, the realisation hit me.

 Clarke knew that. She knew me.

 She’d asked me nothing about myself, and she was completely uninformed about who I really was.

 But she knew me. Somehow.

 I’d thought I was a step ahead, picking up pieces of her personal life; her name, where she worked, what she studied, the fact that she worked alongside her mother…

 But she’d needed none of that to figure me out. Now she was using it against me exactly the way I would’ve used it against her.

 So, was that what she’d wanted from me? She wanted me to sacrifice the expectation that I would undoubtedly get to taste her again? She wanted to be chased.

 I ran my tongue over my teeth.

 I hated games.

 But the only way I could get Clarke was to play.

 

.::.

 

 I wanted her.

  _God_.

 I wanted her bad.

 In carnal measures.

 But, that scared me. The only way I could protect myself was to see her cave first, or–

 “–Clarke, for god’s sake. Are those cigarettes?”

 I glanced up to my mother who was currently checking over the bruises blossoming on my ribs where I’d been charged into.

 “What?” I followed her line of vision to my handbag where the packet of cigarettes poked out of the front pocket, “Oh, yeah. Menthol. Anyway, are we done here? I told you I was fine.”

 “You know I don’t condone smoking – especially as you’re a health professional!” She was eyeing me with that stiflingly overprotective stare only mothers could conduct.

 “Even menthol?” I couldn’t help myself.

 Exasperated, my mother narrowed her eyes, “You think I care about the flavour, Clarke? A cigarette is a cigarette.”

  _And an annoying mother is an annoying mother, but hey._

 I shrugged and pushed down my top, reaching into my bag and plucking a single cigarette from the packet, “Oh, sue me.” I muttered, ducking out from her hands, “I’m going home.”

 “Clarke, wait. Can you just–”

 “–Thanks for checking me over. But there’s nothing that can be done about broken ribs.” I shut the door to her clinic room behind me, slinging my bag over my shoulder as I reached for my lighter. The second I walked through the doors to the car park, I lit the end of the cigarette, tossing my ponytail over my shoulder. I questioned myself about the smoking thing enough without my mother getting on my case about it as well. But the fact I knew it pissed her off just made me want to do it all the more.

 I took a drag, tilting my head back against the wall and closing my eyes, shutting out the twilight. It was a brief release; a distraction.

 Ha. There was a healthier distraction I could’ve pursued. But I wasn’t sure it was less detrimental to my overall health.

 My stranger wanted me too. She wasn’t afraid of admitting that. I wasn’t sure why I was turning her down exactly.

 Out of stubbornness.

 Out of self-denial.

 Out of fear.

 “The epitome of health promotion.”

 I peeled my eyes open, instantly settling them on the pale green stare I knew would be in front of me. She had a knack for finding me today it seemed…

 “That’s me.” I shrugged, tapping away the ash, “Did you sneak a GPS into my bag or something?”

 I’d been under too much pressure in the past hour to conduct myself flirtatiously and my response came off as a little salty.

 “Should you be smoking on the hospital grounds?” The austere club-owner arched a slim eyebrow, her eyes as characteristically empty as usual.

 “Honestly, I shouldn’t be smoking at all.” I cleared my throat and straightened up, “How’s Gustus?”

 “He still hasn’t woken up.”

 I hesitated before I sighing, “I’m sorry.”

 My stranger was silent for a moment before she shifted her gaze to the floor, “Are you okay?”

 I suppressed a scornful laugh – out of consideration for my broken ribs. Nothing else.

 “Do you care?” I muttered.

 She didn’t speak immediately and instead, she pulled her intense stare back to me, observing me shrewdly before she finally opened her mouth, “Actually, Clarke… I’ve been thinking about what you said.”

 She was a woman of few words, so I got the feeling what she was about to disclose was going to be more than just a little uncomfortable for her. This gave me a sadistic sense of pleasure.

 “I want you. You know I do.” She spoke the words with such conviction it made me draw my lip under my teeth. She was different because she was direct. With the rawest of intent. “But, as you’ve guessed, I’m… I’m not used to being made to wait for the things I want. I think I know what you want me to do. I just… don’t know how to do it.”

 She wore her vulnerability well, even if she didn’t know she was wearing it. Sure, her eyes were still steely, her expression still stony, but her tone was unsteady. Hesitant. It was the first time I’d seen her second-guess herself.

 “Tell me your name.”

 The words had left my mouth without permission. I’d wanted so bad to keep her anonymity. But for some reason, my instincts betrayed me. I was annoyed with myself. Once you gave something a name, you got attached to it. Half of me hoped she’d use a pseudo.

 She almost blinked, before her face corrected itself, “Lexa.”

  _Lexa_.

 I’d regretted asking her almost instantly. Why couldn’t she just have had a different name? Something less appealing like… Leonard.

“Is that your stripper name? It sounds like a stripper name.” I sent her an unwelcome smirk, knowing before I did it that she would hate me for it.

 Her expression remained unchanged, “No.”

 “Okay, Lexa…” I took another drag of my cigarette, letting it hang between my fingertips after withdrawing it from my mouth, “… Tell me why you want me. Is it because I’m the nearest available pair of legs? Or is it because you’ve already had me, so you think it’s easy to get me again? A quick fix?”

 “You think I find this easy, Clarke?”

 Flash.

 Her eyes flashed.

 I could feel the burn of her passion in my throat. It was brief, but it was there.

 “No. I don’t. But I like the way it makes you sweat.” I countered, stubbing my cigarette out on the bricks behind me, letting the remains crumble to the gravel.

 Lexa’s lips set into a hard line and she took a step forwards, the fuel of fire lighting in her eyes, “And what am I sweating for, Clarke?”

 The unintended pout of her lips drew my attention to her mouth and I mirrored her stride, the thick tension binding the narrow distance between us.

 “You’re sweating because I want you to. I want you to know how it feels to want something so bad, it makes you weak.” The words were tumbling from my mouth, the heat of her stare threatening my self-control. But I couldn’t stop myself.

 “Do I make _you_ weak?” She quipped, keeping her pale glower immobile on my face.

 Before I could reason my way out of it, I’d grabbed her hip and spun her around, pushing her back up against the wall, my body caging hers to the bricks.

 “No. You make me feel.”

 There was a blinding moment of throbbing silence, the dirty light of dusk haunting her eyes, before I kissed her.

 I kissed her deeply, tasting the longing on her tongue, willing her to taste me back.

 Lexa’s hand tangled into my hair, pulling at my locks harshly, and her teeth clamped down hard on my lip, tearing at the flesh as her back arched away from the wall.

 The fight of her kiss begged the question: _Have I sacrificed enough yet?_

 The thought of breaking away from her mouth was pushed so far away into the back of my mind it took the horrified beckon of my name to slap me back into reality.

 “Clarke?!”

 Lexa shoved me back a step automatically, pulling her eyes from my face as the recognition of my mother’s tone left me stunned.

 She was clutching her bag to her side, her eyes vast with shock. She couldn’t seem to form the next part of her sentence.

 My hand unwittingly moved to wipe my lips as I met her wide stare.

 “What… what is this? What are you doing?”

 Avoiding stating the obvious, I just let my arms hang by my side, “Unwinding.”

 “Do you think you could unwind in a way that doesn’t involve breaking professional codes?” She was pissed off. Not just because I was edging boundaries, but because I was kissing a girl.

 I knew she wasn’t homophobic; she was generally pretty liberal on all fronts despite the way she’d been brought up. I guessed she was just angry I hadn’t told her men weren’t my only interest.

 It probably made her feel like she wasn’t as good a mother as she’d hoped.

 “Clarke, get in your car and go home.”

 “Doctor’s orders?” I asked, sarcastically, “Or my mother’s?”

  I knew I was making it worse.

 “This is unacceptable, Clarke. You’re one step closer to ruining everything for yourself! Not everybody gets a second chance like you!”

 This wasn’t just about me kissing a girl anymore.

 But, I wasn’t going to do what she told me either.

 “And you remind me of it every goddamn day.” I hissed, refusing to listen anymore.

 “Don’t do this to me, Clarke.”

 “To you? You think…” I took a steadying breath, “You really think my life choices are all about getting at you?” I shook my head, already disengaging from the conversation.

 It was bad enough having this discussion with my mother, let alone having this discussion with my mother whilst the mysterious club-owner looked on. The mysterious club-owner who I _barely_ even knew.

 If I could, I would have curled up in a ball of shame and stayed slumped against the wall until waking up because surely this had to be a dream…  

 Seeing little alternative, instead I turned my face to Lexa.

 Her expression was unreadable, even though her breast still heaved from the fervour of our kiss. She was looking at me, waiting for me to say, or do, something.

 But I couldn’t. My mind was still in overdrive.

 Lexa stepped in to take the control back easily, her hand sliding into mine. Silently, she pulled me away from the wall, leading me through the carpark.

 “Clarke, please! Wait!” I could hear my mother’s shouts, but I didn’t turn around.

 Numbly, I followed Lexa, saying nothing.

  _Keep walking. Don’t stop._

 She slowed to a halt outside a satin black car, turning towards me, “What do you want to do, Clarke?” She asked quietly.

  _What are my options?_

I hated myself for my incapability. Why couldn’t I speak? Why had I relented my power so quickly?

 “Do you want to get in? Or do you want to leave?”

  _I don’t know._

 She unlocked her car and opened the passenger door, “It’s okay. This doesn’t have to mean anything.”

 I nodded and released her hand, sliding into the comforts of the fresh leather as Lexa shut the door behind me. I envied her discipline and the way she’d so naturally regained it, even after I’d broken it. She eased into the seat beside me, setting the key in the ignition and letting the soft hum of the engine roll as she reversed out of her parking space.

 She drove in perfect reflection of her character; moving quickly, but with unyielding certainty. I didn’t even know where we were going.

 Eventually, she pulled into some empty parking lot probably in the middle of nowhere, and tilted her head to face me.

 “I don’t want to talk about it.” I cut in before she could speak.

 “I wasn’t going to ask you to.”

 A sigh left my lips and I leaned into the door, angling my body towards hers, “Sorry, I just… What are we doing?”

 “That entirely depends on what you want to do.”

 I didn’t know.

 “Look, I’m not asking anything of you, Clarke. We barely know each other, and I know this isn’t personal for you… being with me. Truthfully, I’m going against all my better judgements even being here. So, if you want to go home, I can drive you there. But, if you wanted to…” She trailed away, the rare ambiguity returning to her tone.

 Part of me didn’t want to be alone, because I knew I’d make a stupid decision and do something to myself I’d regret.

 My mother and I didn’t have a good relationship. We hadn’t for a long time. But I couldn’t pretend it didn’t affect me, because it did. Deeply.

 Now that was well out in the open.

  _If I want to what?_

After a moment, Lexa continued, her tone guarded once again, “If you want to forget, I can facilitate that too.”

  _So goddamn formal_.

 “In the car you mean?”

  _And then drive me home afterwards?_

 That wouldn’t help me forget, it would just put off thinking about my twisted familial ties.

 “Wherever you want.” Lexa told me softly.

 I could hardly believe the turn of the evening. We’d gone from almost ripping each other’s clothes off in public, to sitting in melancholy indecision in the middle of nowhere.

 I didn’t even know her. Not really. I mean, sure, we’d fucked in a night of drunken haze.

 Hot haze.

 But still… why was I considering letting her be the one to help me forget?

 I pushed away the thought, “I need to go home.”

 Lexa nodded without hesitation and started up the car once again, “Address?”

 I filled her in and rested my head against the window, tiredly.

 I hoped Octavia was in – I wasn’t sure I trusted myself to be alone.

 The silence between us wasn’t uncomfortable. We both had things on our mind.

 Lexa’s phone rang through the speakers in the car and she glanced at the screen on the dashboard; Indra.

 “I’m sorry, Clarke… do you mind if I take this?”

 Shaking my head, I glanced over to her, “Only if you don’t mind me overhearing it. I’ll try not to listen.”

 I knew it must have been important; I would’ve expected her to ignore the call if it was anything less than an absolute priority.

 “Hello?”

 “ _Are you still at the hospital?_ ”

 Lexa switched gear, her eyes fixed on the road, “No. I was going to call you when I got home.”

  _After she’d fucked me, I presumed._

 The woman on the other end of the call sounded stressed, “ _How is he? We’re all worried_.”

 “No change. He has his own room now. I can message you the details if you want to visit.” Lexa was keeping her tone even, “Any more news on the suspect?”

 “ _They have the wrong man in custody. But Niko has an idea who he thinks did it. He doesn’t have a name yet… but he thinks the attacker was after you. Gustus must have recognised him… and that’s when he got jumped. Either that, or it was a threat directed at you. When Gustus wakes up, I’m sure he’ll be able to give some insight._ ”

 Lexa said nothing for a few seconds, until she eventually opened her mouth, “If he wakes up, Indra, there’s no telling he’ll remember.”

 “ _We have to hope he will. He wouldn’t leave you. He’s too loyal for that_.”

 “Unfortunately, loyalty won’t change the state of his health.” She’d said it factually, but I knew she was affected by it. I couldn’t help but feel a little guilty for letting a petty argument with my mother seem like the worst thing to have happened. It made me feel like a child.

 “ _Well, I suppose all we can do is wait. In the meantime, please be careful. The attacker is still out there. He’ll still be looking for you and we don’t know if he was alone or not_.”

 Lexa was unperturbed by the comment, “I’ll be fine. I can look after myself.”

 “ _So could Gustus but look where he is._ ” Indra must have realised her remark was a little out of line by Lexa’s silence, “ _Just… avoid your clubs for a while. We have it covered. The police is on hyper-alert anyway. We’ll be tightening security and reopening as soon as we get the all clear._ ”

 Clubs – multiple. I should’ve realised she wasn’t just in charge of one.

 “Thank you, Indra. I’ll speak to you later.” Lexa slowed up outside my apartment, ending the call as I glanced around for Octavia’s car.

 It wasn’t there.

 “I tried not to listen.” I said quietly, but my stranger just regarded me steadily, “But it was hard not to… You’re in danger, aren’t you?”

 She kept her eyes on mine, “It’s nothing to worry about, Clarke.”

 “Oh, come on. I’ll be pissed off if I have to resuscitate you too.” It was a pathetic comment, but it was all I could think to say.

 Lexa raised an eyebrow, although I could still see the tension ebbing away at her eyes, “You’re sure you don’t like the idea of giving me mouth-to-mouth?”

 “I’d rather give it to you while you’re alive.”

 For the first time, I saw her smile. Just from one corner of her lips.

Somehow, I found it as unnerving as it was graceful. It was subtle, but it still unhinged my chest, leaving me a little short of breath.

 “Careful, Clarke. It almost sounds like you care.” Her tone was low, teasing. Even though she’d just learned somebody (maybe multiple somebodies) wanted her dead, she remained calm.

 I managed a weak scoff at her words and rolled my eyes, “Well, we can’t have that, can we?”

 Lexa said nothing; I assumed she was waiting for me to make a move out of her car, but I struggled.

 “Lexa…” I murmured, watching the way her eyes drop to my lips as I spoke her name, “… will you tell me what _you_ want?”

 She kept one hand curled around the steering wheel as she surveyed me, “You know what I want, Clarke.”

She’d taken a step back when I wanted to take charge, she’d regained the lead when I couldn’t, and she’d pushed her own wants aside just to make sure I was okay. Without deliberation.

 And she as good as had a bounty on her head.

 She wanted a distraction.

 She wanted to forget, like I did.

 Lexa deserved to get what she wanted.

 “Then come inside.” I said quietly.

 Lexa tilted her head to one side, “I thought you wanted to be alone.”

 I hesitated, watching the suppressed desire creeping back into her eyes, “No. I want us both to forget.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After Clarke had unintentionally allowed Lexa to witness different dimensions of her character in the hospital grounds, she was finding it more and more of a challenge to keep the club-owner at a distance. Still, she is determined to keep their physical intimacy purely platonic - or at least something like a mutual business transaction. Lexa's intrigue continues to deepen as she gets closer to Clarke.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Firstly, thank you to all of those who have taken the time to leave me feedback and kudos on my last chapter. I really appreciate the support and it keeps me motivated knowing that Clexa still has such a wonderful fanbase. 
> 
> Secondly, thank you to those who have contributed their thoughts regarding the POV switches. I've made a slight change to the way I introduce each perspective. Hopefully this makes it clearer as to which person is narrating. For Clarke, the introduction will appear as .::. C .::. and for Lexa .::. L .::.
> 
> Thanks again for your support. Enjoy.

.::. _L_ .::.

 

 “No. I want us both to forget.”

 At first, I’d vaguely toyed with the idea of refusing. Clarke wanted me to make a sacrifice. If I refused, I would be sacrificing something I’d been aching for over the past couple of weeks. Did she want me to go that far?

 But not even I had that level of self-restraint. I knew it was probably a bad idea to consent, but I wanted her selfishly. Flickering my gaze over her face for a moment, I tried to read the slightest hint of doubt on her features. But there was nothing. Simple determination to forget.

 I nodded and pulled the keys from the ignition, following her out of the car.

 “It’s… It’s nothing special. My flat, I mean. It’s pretty basic. It has a decent view of the city though.”

  _I’m not here to look out your window, Clarke._

 I said nothing.

 The flat didn’t matter. It was inconsequential.

 She led me up two flights of stairs, pausing outside a blue painted door as she scrambled for her house keys.

 “Clarke, a cat followed you inside.”

 I wasn’t a fan of animals. I had no prejudice against them. But cats in particular irritated me. Perhaps it was because I could relate to them too easily. They also had a knack of having their demands met with a mere tilt of their heads.

 She turned and scooped up the fluffy tomcat in her arms, “I suppose you’re hungry aren’t you, Chancellor?”

 “He’s yours?” I raised an eyebrow, finding the image of Clarke displaying affection to any living thing somewhat amusing.

 “Well, not really. He’s sort of homeless.” She stepped inside, holding the door open for me to follow her in, “But, he adopted us and we couldn’t exactly say no.”

 I assumed she must have been referring to herself and her absent housemate.

 Clarke continued to murmur in hushed baby tones to the creature – an action that might ordinarily prompt me to wrinkle my nose in mild disgust. But, of course, I couldn’t help but observe the interaction with attentive amusement; the way she ran her fingers smoothly through his fur, handling him with a great deal more care than I would’ve given her credit for.

 “Could you give me a minute while I feed him?” She asked, setting him down. He flicked his tail and turned his green eyed stare onto me, deciding whether I was a threat or a friend. I regarded him in the same manner until he eventually lost interest and busied himself at Clarke’s legs, wrapping his bushy tail around her ankle.

 I took a moment to survey the flat – it was quirkier than I expected; open plan and fresh, full of homely items like scented candles and photographs. She was right though. The view from the window was quite spectacular, looking out onto the city lights.

 It was nothing like my own place; and perhaps that was why I liked it.

 My house was sleekly decorated, but colder and less sentimental. I think the only thing the two places had in common were the candles.

 I watched Clarke in utter silence.

 How had I seen so many sides to her in one day? How had I gone from wanting to fuck her up against the wall of the hospital to wanting to comfort her… and then back to wanting to fuck her again?

 It didn’t scare me. I knew none of it mattered to her. She didn’t want to make this personal, and I was no good with getting attached either. She was using me as much as I was using her.

 Only, she made it difficult not to let me see her for who she was. And who she was captivated a part of me that had been dormant for a long time. A very long time.

 It was only when I was standing inches behind her that I’d realised I had been walking towards her, such was the pull of desire to get inside her again.

 “Do you want a drink, or–” She cut herself off with a gentle gasp as she turned, finding me standing directly in front of her.

 Her susceptibility to my invasive presence was too enticing to neglect.

 I slid my hands to her hips, pushing her back up against the counter, the lustful animal in my chest growling in pleasure at the way her breath left her lips from the impact. I caught her lips in an open-mouthed kiss, my thumb running over her hipbone lightly.

 Once she’d dispelled the surprise of my kiss, she returned it vigorously, her palms pressing flat against my stomach.

 My mouth hungrily sought her tongue, coaxing the passion out of her that I knew she possessed. The heat of our mouths was stifling. But I craved more. It wasn’t enough. It was never enough. Her hand slid upwards over my breast, taking her fill between her fingers before she continued moving it to cup my throat – it was the shell of a chokehold, yet she applied very little pressure.

 She was letting me know I was exposed. She could have constricted her hand, but she didn’t.

 The throbbing ache in my stomach tightened at her subtle power play, my animal clawing its way to my chest.

  _Play the game_.

 I moved my throat further into her hand, taking her lower lip between my teeth.

  _Do it. Choke me. If you dare._

 Her fingers flexed, shutting off my windpipe for no more than three seconds; she dared. She was letting me know she wasn’t afraid.

 She knew how to play.

 I dropped my hands, curling them around Clarke’s rear and hoisting her upwards, shoving her backwards onto the counter. I settled myself between her legs, my arms resting along her thighs. Even though she was higher than me, I was taller than her by a few inches or so which meant I had no issue with tilting my head up to reach her lips without straining my neck.

 I wanted to fuck her right here. On the counter.

 As I broke away for a brief (but required) breath, she read my intent. She willed me further, her hand cramming into my hair, jerking at it hard.

 “Take your clothes off.” She urged, the husk of her voice impossible to defy, “Or I will.”

 I raised an eyebrow, sliding my thumb between her legs and pressing hard against her for a moment, knowing it would remind her who was really in charge right now.

 The sharpness of her breath indicated my message had been received.

 “Take yours off.” I commanded softly, unbuttoning her trousers.

 When I didn’t relent my stare, she narrowed her eyes, “Take them off for me.”

 “That’s not a punishment.” I informed her, tucking my fingers beneath her waistband and pulling them downwards. The counter did make it a little tricky, but I’d had enough experience in the past to deal with it smoothly, “Lift this up.” I instructed, my fingers striking against the side of her rear.

 Clarke supported herself on her hands, raising her hips so I could whip the offending article off her legs. Luckily, they weren’t skinny tight trousers, so it made the procedure all too easy. I let my nails graze over her thighs before they found the hem of her top; that was quickly discarded to the floor too.

 She glared at me hard, even as I flipped the clasp of her bra, letting it spring loose and hang from her shoulders uselessly.

 “Now yours.” She waited in expectation.

 I supposed it was only fair.

 I took a step back and relieved my torso from its clothing, flinging it alongside Clarke’s and unfastening the buttons on my high-waist jeans.

  _I’ll leave the rest for you when you return the favour_.

 But that seemed out of the question for Clarke.

 “I want to see you.” Her request was gentler than I’m sure she intended, and perhaps that was why I hesitated by her lips. Why was my body responding to the softness of her voice? Maybe because I wasn’t used to it. Maybe because I liked the way it nudged me off-guard.

 I gave a short nod as she leaned forwards, her fingertips brushing over my spine, equalling my expertise in unclipping the fastener. Her hand tore it off my breast and dropped it to the floor. She was content mapping out my upper anatomy for a few moments, biting her lip in satisfaction, “And your jeans.”

 Obediently, I rolled them down my thighs, kicking them to the side.

 Clarke glanced me up and down, seeming to appreciate my entirely naked form – well, aside from my underwear.

 But I’d had enough of waiting. I shoved her thighs further apart, keeping my eyes on hers as I pushed my fingers between her legs, finding her lips once more.

 I could feel her unharnessed whimpers pouring into my mouth, intensifying with each movement.

 Her body was ready for me well before I gave it to her, and it made coaxing the pleasure out of her that much more satiating.

 She was close.

 I kept moving until I felt her tremble violently around me. But her audible emissions of prolonged gratification were quickly replaced with sounds of pain. I stopped immediately, pulling back to assess her.

“Fuck!” She breathed, her body still quivering as her hand flew to her ribs.

 Oh. Of course. I’d forgotten about that incident.

 I reached forwards instinctively, moving her hand away from her side to see obvious bruising shadowing her skin. How had this bypassed my attention? I supposed I was preoccupied with other parts of her to notice… but I was still annoyed at myself for failing to see this.

 She must have seen my expression change, for she shook her head, “No, I’m okay. I’m fine.” She panted, leaning her weight on her hand.

 “Clarke, why didn’t you say if I was hurting you?” I demanded. I was angry.

 “You weren’t! I couldn’t feel it until…. Until after I finished.” She told me, “My body was too busy feeling other things to realise…”

 I glowered at her briefly, “They’re broken, aren’t they?”

 “They’re fine.” She rejected my concern and leaned forwards, “Besides… it was worth it.”

 It didn’t settle me. I didn’t mind inflicting pain when I had control over how much I was giving… and when my partner wanted it. But, I didn’t like causing it unintentionally. Or in such intense measures. My expression must have betrayed me because she shook her head and leaned forwards, opening her mouth to speak. Right before the sound of a key turning in the lock of the door interrupted her. She rested her hands on my shoulders, leaping down from the counter and grabbing my arm, yanking me down the corridor with such force, I almost lost balance.

 She shoved open a polished door and dragged me into the room concealed behind, pushing it to the frame – but not so it was completely closed.

 “Don’t say a word.” She enforced the command with such ferocity, I wouldn’t have even considered ignoring it.

 All I could do was stare at her naked body, and her at mine.

 

.::. _C_ .::.

 

 I pushed away the pounding pain in my ribs, my hand still clasped around Lexa’s wrist. She said nothing as usual and kept her eyes on me.

 I knew she was feeling guilty in her own messed up way, but I wasn’t going to acknowledge that right then… because I was too busy thinking about the abandoned clothes by the kitchen counter.

 “ _Hello, baby boy… Did Clarke let you in, hm?_ ” Octavia was fussing over The Chancellor, “ _Oh, you are so regal… yes, you are. The most regal of them all…_ ”

 There was a brief silence as I heard the sound of the kettle boil, before Octavia suddenly exclaimed, “ _Clarke! You’ve left your clothes on the…_ ” She trailed away. She must have seen the second bra… Or the worn underwear, “ _Oh, for fuck’s sake, Griffin! Jesus! Holy Christ! Really?_ ”

 “Get under the quilt.” I pointed to the bed, “Now.”

 Lexa raised an eyebrow, but did as I’d said, covering herself completely.

 She had no idea Octavia would surge into the room in her fury, regardless of who was presently naked or not. Octavia and I had been friends for way too long to care about seeing each other in the nude… but I wasn’t sure how my stranger would feel about getting burst in on. I reached for a scrunched up boys top on the floor – I’d had it a while and wore it out of comfort instead of sentimentality of the male it used to belong to. To be honest, I could hardly recall who I had acquired it from. But, I was certainly grateful for it in that moment.

 It dropped to my mid-thighs just as Octavia kicked open the door, “Clarke Griffin, you disgust me! I swear to God… If you did it on the kitchen side… Fuck, you did, didn’t you? I make _food_ on that counter! You and Niylah – or whoever the fuck it is you have hiding in your bed can remove those articles of clothing from the floor immediately! Yes, I can see you too, hiding under the quilt over there!”

 “Octavia, I’m sorry. Do you think we could do this later?” I asked, aiming for a quiet resolve before Lexa decided she’d had enough of Octavia’s shrill shrieks and did something rash and dominating like revealing who it really was under the quilt.

 “Later? You mean _after_ you finish slutting around? I don’t fucking think so. Some of us need to eat, you know! And I’ll go to hell – no, wait – _you’ll_ go to hell before I prepare my food on _that_ kitchen counter before it’s been sterilised!”

 It seemed she wasn’t on my wave length.

 “Hey, there’s no need for slut shaming.”

 It also seemed she wasn’t in the right frame of mind for humour either.

 “Look, I thought you were at Lincoln’s!” I defended myself, although my argument was weak.

 “Clearly I’m not, am I?! We had another goddamn argument. I do _not_ need this right now!”

 I narrowed my eyes – she was way overreacting. I’d walked in on her doing worse.

 “Yeah, like you’ve never banged Lincoln on my coffee table… which was a gift by the way! I didn’t yell at you did I?” I countered, squaring my shoulders out.

 “No, but you made me wipe it down with bleach seventeen times! _Seventeen_ times! _And_ you made my morning coffee with salt!”

 Actually, it was sixteen times and the salt in her coffee was a genuine mistake, but I didn’t think it appropriate to correct her.

 Besides, she was taking her stress out on me, and it wasn’t necessary. Okay, it was slightly necessary. But still…

 “I picked your underwear up with my hands! My _bare_ hands, Griffin!” She continued, her face overtaken with rage, “They were still fucking _warm_! Jesus, I could vomit on your carpet right now! I am going nowhere near that kitchen until you clean every inch of it three times over! Who knows what diseases you’re carrying?”

 “Oh, I’m all clear and you damn well know it, Octavia Blake! And if I’m not, you’re going to be the first person I wipe all my diseases on!” We usually got pretty dramatic in our arguments, but I knew we’d be over it as soon as we’d had five minutes to ourselves. We never stayed pissed off at each other for long.

 “You sicken me, Griffin. Clean it all up and move those goddamn clothes out of my sight, you dirty whore…” She growled, stalking away from my bedroom and slamming her own door behind her.

 “Takes one to know one, asshole!” I yelled childishly.

 “ _Real mature, dick-wad!_ ”

 “Cock-sucking peasant!”

 There was a silence as I strode from the bedroom, grabbing the bleach from the cupboard under the sink and wiping the kitchen side down until it was immaculate. Simply to appease my housemate, I cleaned it again.

 And again.

 “Clean!” I shouted, “Three times over as requested, your majesty!” I tacked on the end, collecting the clothes and striding back into my room, closing the door firmly behind me. Lexa was laying against the pillows, the quilt tucked under her arms to keep the rest of her covered.

 I couldn’t work out if she looked amused, surprised, or simply complacent.

 Either way, she said nothing, but just regarded me with her eyebrows raised.

 Either way, I knew I had to have her.

 “Don’t talk.” I muttered, tossing the clothes onto the floor and walking to the foot of the bed, lifting up the quilt. I ducked my head underneath and began to crawl along the mattress, disappearing from her view. I moved between her legs, reaching out for her hips in the darkness. As soon as my fingers landed on the lace, I began to slide them down her thighs, pushing them the rest of the way with my foot.

 “Clarke…” Lexa murmured, but I ignored her, my lips trailing over her stomach.

 “Clarke.” She said again, but with pressured severity. I raised my head upwards, the quilt still hanging off me as I locked my gaze darkly onto hers.

 “What?”

  _There’d better be a good reason you’re stopping me._

  “Your ribs.” She said quietly, “Don’t do this.”

  “Don’t test me.” I warned her, my hand falling between her legs.

 Her head tilted back marginally, a soft moan leaving her mouth. Good.

 Just as I was about to return to my desired location, she caught my arm, “No.”

 “I’m doing this so you’d better shut your mouth and let me, Lexa. I’m fine.”

 I could see her reservations by the way she rested her teeth over her lip, but she nodded her head once she realised I would feel worse off if I didn’t return the favour.

 And I did return the favour.

 She came as quietly as she could, stifling her cries by biting down hard on my pillow.

 It was the sexiest image I’d seen all week. Well, probably all month.

 I gave her time to recover, rolling onto my back to rest my hand on my heaving ribs.

 We lay there with the distance between us in silence.

 Neither of us spoke for a moment, until Lexa pulled herself upright, heading over to the pile of clothes to sift out her items.

 I watched her. Of course she would leave. The way I’d left her when we’d fucked the first time.

 Besides which… we’d exposed too much vulnerability today to continue the charade much longer before it became uncomfortable. And I wasn’t talking about exposing our bodies. _This is a casual thing_ , I continued to remind myself.

 I pushed back the duvet, going to fetch my underwear. It felt too precariously breezy wearing a top with no pants.

 Once she’d dressed herself, she went to open the bedroom door, smoothing out her hair and straightening her spine; I didn’t understand how she managed to look so collected post-copulation. My hair was probably everywhere, my makeup smudged, and my cheeks red.

 She didn’t bother looking at me as she stepped out onto the corridor, moving towards the large living space of the apartment.

 I followed her, hoping to God Octavia had shut herself off in her room.

 She hadn’t.

 Her eyes flickered up from the television and landed on Lexa. Instantly, the pissy expression she’d been wearing just seconds before morphed into that of utter surprise. If I wasn’t despising the current circumstance so vehemently, I probably would have found it amusing.

 Her eyes followed Lexa, her mouth agape, right up until the point she left the apartment.

 My stranger sent me one final glance from the other side of the threshold, and I couldn’t help but wonder if I would see her again. Automatically, I sent her a small half-apologetic, half-awkward smile. For the second time ever, she smiled back – just slightly – before she walked away.

 The second the door closed, Octavia sat up straight, “ _What_ the hell, Griffin? Was that… it wasn’t… was it?”

 I rolled my eyes, going to flip the kettle on, “Yes, it was.”

 She clapped a hand over her mouth, “You little…! Oh, my god! When did _that_ happen?”

 “About half an hour before you burst in on us in all your fiery rage…” I muttered, pouring us both a cup of tea, stirring in the milk and sugar.

 “A well-deserved interruption. But seriously… tell me _everything_.” She ordered as I set her mug down on the coffee table, dropping onto the sofa.

 “Everything except the bit involving the kitchen side, you mean?” I raised an eyebrow, looking over at her with a small smirk.

 “You can eliminate that part of the story, yes, unless you want vomit all over the floor.” She returned, sipping at her tea.

 “By the way, you know the salt in your coffee was accidental. Just for the record.”

 She wafted her hand as though swatting away my words, “I know, I know. Enough of that. Start talking!”

 I explained the events of my day, polishing every bit of detail I could aside from the part about Lexa having a bounty on her head, quite enjoying the effect it had on Octavia’s facial expressions. She offered her input every so often: “Jesus, I can’t keep up with your mother”, “Oh, my god. I can’t believe you said that!”, and “You still managed to do all that with broken ribs?”

 I leaned back, shrugging a shoulder.

 Octavia creased her eyebrows, “You know there’s no way this can be kept as a no-strings-attached fling, right?”

 I clicked my tongue, “Yeah, right. Like I have time for it to be anything else. Like I’d even want it to be.”

 My housemate shook her head, “Clarke… she saw you de-escalate a very distressed patient who had just broken your ribs, which must have been a pretty impressive spectacle… she saw you argue with your mother… she drove you away from the scene and then offered to bring you straight home _without expecting sex_ , may I add… she witnessed us spit fire at each other… not to mention, she let you take control when there’s no way she would’ve done that for just any old bang… on top of that, she tried to stop you from getting her off because of your ribs… _and_ I saw you smile at her before she left.”

 “So what?” I rolled my eyes, “It doesn’t mean anything. She just did all that to keep on the right side of me. It’s how booty calls work. Act like a saint, and you get the rewards of heaven.”

 “Also I called her Niylah.” Octavia smirked, “And she didn’t punch you in the face. She’s into you.”

 “Quite literally into me.” I commented, “Anyway. Tell me what happened with you and Lincoln.”

 She groaned and took another drink from her mug, “It’s just petty. It doesn’t matter.”

 I sent her a look of disapproval, “Yes, it does. What was your argument about?”

 “He started chatting about the future… nothing major like marriage or babies… but you know, just plans. But I was like, well how does he expect us to go anywhere when he’s always working away. Even if we moved in tomorrow, nothing would change. He still wouldn’t have the time to see me as often as we’d like. Then I said something stupid about one of his ex-girlfriends because she’s been trying to call him again… I made some daft insinuations, which I knew weren’t true, but I was pissed off. You know how I get.”

 “All too well.” I offered.

 Octavia sighed, “So… I stormed off and he went to his friend’s. But he’s heading off to Dublin in a few days for a conference… Dublin! So, I can’t look at him right now and I’m pretty sure he doesn’t want to look at me either.”

 I listened, sipping at my tea before I passed her the packet of cookies, “Well, I give it half an hour at the most before he comes over with flowers.”

 “He won’t.” She muttered, “Not after what I said.”

 “What did you say?” I pressed.

 She sent me a guilty look as she dipped her cookie into her tea, “I said he probably didn’t even have a conference in Dublin and that he was taking her to a different continent to fuck her behind my back…”

 “He knows you didn’t mean it.” I sighed, “You always say stupid stuff you don’t mean.”

  “You are a dirty whore though. I meant that.” She smirked, tossing the packet back to me.

 “And I will wipe my diseases all over your face.” I returned, “ _I_ meant that too.”

 She grimaced briefly, a quiet grumble leaving her mouth, “I need to stop acting out or I’m going to lose him.”

 I was already shaking my head, “O, he knows you. It’s just a part of who you are. You’re fierce, and I think underneath it all, he loves you for it.”

 “Maybe. I’m just scared that one of these days he’s going to have had enough of me.”

 “Not going to happen.” I finished off my tea and exhaled softly.

Octavia was silent for a moment before she looked back to me, one eyebrow raised, “Also… cock-sucking peasant?”

 “It was the first thing that popped into my head…” I countered, and we both burst into fits of laughter.

…

 The tenderness of my ribs woke me the next morning.

 There was no way I was going into the hospital. I wouldn’t have been allowed to anyway; I would have been useless trying to participate in any moving and handling so it was against policy.

  _You managed moving and handling Lexa last night just fine._

 I pushed away the thought, well aware I’d made my own cheeks colour.

 Once I’d called up the manager and explained what had happened and where he could find the incident report, I pushed back my covers and sat up.

 My quilt still smelled of her.

 My eyes flickered closed for a moment as I inhaled the sweet, yet enticingly musky scent. Jesus, how was it possible for her to turn me on when she wasn’t even here?

 The thought irritated me.

 I headed into the kitchen to grab some breakfast; I needed to make good use of my time off. That meant instead of studying like I was supposed to, I was going to lounge around idly watching Netflix, or something equally as unproductive.

 I spied the roses from Lincoln on the coffee table and rolled my eyes.

 I knew I’d called it.

 Over the next few days, I did somehow manage to get some studying done. Between avoiding calls from my mother, and ignoring texts from Niylah, I also managed to get hooked on some murder-crime documentary series. So, that was something. It was during this period that I realised I hadn’t actually really left the flat except to walk down to the corner shop for essentials such as ice cream, and oranges to prevent scurvy.

 “You making breakfast?” Octavia asked, coming into the living area to join me on my fourth day off.

 “For me, yes.” I told her. It was nice to actually have time to make myself a morning meal that consisted of more than bland granola bars and rushed coffee, “So, piss off.”

 “Bacon sandwich, please. Thanks.” She grinned, flipping on the kettle, “Are you planning on leaving the apartment at any point in your life?”

 “I could actually do with driving into the city to–” I cut myself off after tossing some extra bacon in the frying pan, “Shit. My car.”

 Octavia waited for me to expand.

 “It’s been at the hospital since last Sunday.” I slapped the bacon on some bread and picked it up, turning to face my housemate with my best well-practiced puppy dog eyes, “O…” I began, handing the plate over to her.

 She took said meal from my hands, realising I was still looking at her intently.

 “Oh, my god. What?” She muttered, picking up the sandwich.

 “You know since I’ve just been slaving away at the cooker making you the most delicious breakfast…” I trailed away, letting her form her own conclusion.

 Her eyes suddenly narrowed mid-bite, “Oh, for fuck’s sake, Griffin. You need a lift to the hospital, don’t you?”

 I flipped my own bacon onto the bread, “I would be eternally and forever grateful.”

 She swallowed her current mouthful and exhaled moodily, “Since this bacon sandwich is _so_ goddamn good, fine. By the way, eternally and forever mean the same thing, you dramatic bastard.”

 I laughed softly, “You’re my favourite.”

 “I know.”

 

.::. _L_ .::.

 

 Gustus still hadn’t woken up.

 It was a bad sign.

 The longer he took to wake up, the harder it was going to be for him to keep breathing.

 Indra had relieved me from pacing up and down his bedside, instructing me to get some air.

 I’d had word of who’d organised the attack. I wasn’t surprised when I overheard. I’d been suspecting something from Nia in the back of my head for a long time.

 She owed me a lot of favours. She was the co-owner of Azgeda Casino; I’d had my sights on that organisation a while ago with the intention of taking it over once she’d got herself into severe debt, but I’d stopped my dealings with Nia because I didn’t like the way she worked. The best way of describing her was as a snake; a poisonous viper who would constrict her own son if she got a bit of money out of it. Now she was after my clubs… my money. My life.

 One thing was certain though. The imp she’d sent to knife Gustus wasn’t going to be around for much longer. I’d already contacted a couple of my connections who would see that justice was served before the week was out. If this was a game she wanted to play, she had better learn the rules before making another move. What bothered me was that she knew I would get revenge on the person she’d sent to kill Gustus – and the fact that she didn’t care about her own pissed me off more than anything else. It was a waste of life, but I wasn’t going to let her act go unpunished.

 The air was crisp, the weather taking a turn as we approached autumn. But I was still overheating.

 I was staring at nothing in particular as I strode the length of the parking lot.

 But yet, despite it all, my mind had flitted between the possibility of getting attacked, and the blonde-haired junior doctor. Why was I still thinking about her?

 Sure, I wanted her all over again regardless of everything that was happening.

 But I had never been this fixated on just one girl before.

 She wasn’t like my usual dalliances.

 She was a doctor for a start. Not just some unintellectual clubber with (remarkable) tits and an ass.

 Her presence gave me something else to focus on, and she appeased my instinctual desires as though it was merely second nature to her. Nobody had equalled my level of control before. It left me restless and raw.

 “Slow down, you’re making me tired.”

 The voice knocked the wind right out of my chest.

 I stopped pacing and turned, seeing her leaning against the wall with a cigarette between her lips; she wasn’t in her usual work attire. Instead, she was in navy skinny jeans and a deliciously well-fitted jumper.

 “Clarke…” I murmured automatically, my deprived eyes hungrily grazing over her features.

 She offered me a small smile, exhaling a cloud of smoke in front of her face.

 “Are you working?” I asked, trying to make sense of the scene before me, “Or are you so morbidly into ill-health that you spend your free time loitering around the hospital grounds?”

 “Funny, but no.” She shook her head, “I’m not allowed to work until my ribs heal. I left my car here last Sunday. Octavia dropped me off.”

 I said nothing, uncertain how else to proceed with the conversation.

 “You look awful.” She told me bluntly, “Obviously still irresistible, but awful.”

 I didn’t have the chance to decide whether to be insulted or complimented by her casual comment before she continued, “When was the last time you slept? Or ate something?”

 This was the medic speaking. I knew because she spoke to me the way she might to a patient. It riled me a little that she had the natural gift of perception and that she was so unafraid of using it.

 “I don’t know.” I answered finally, looking away from her.  

 She said nothing as she took another drag of her cigarette.

 Eventually, she pushed back from the wall, “You’ll make yourself ill, you know.” I knew she wasn’t saying it to be patronising. She was right.

 I had neglected food due to the stress, and even though I was tired, I couldn’t sleep. Not restfully, anyway.

 “Hey…” Clarke’s voice was softer this time, closing the distance between us with four steps, “Lexa, you need to keep your strength up.”

 I finally shifted my eyes to hers, hating myself for responding naturally to the gentleness of her tone, “I’m fine.”

 “You can’t bullshit a bullshitter.” She raised an eyebrow at me challengingly, “I need you to keep your strength up, anyway.”

  _How do you figure that, Doctor Griffin?_

 As though I’d spoken my thoughts aloud, she leaned her face forwards just slightly, “I mean, how do you expect to be able to handle the exchange of screaming orgasms otherwise?”

 “I wasn’t aware there would be another exchange.” I was being difficult on purpose. But she saw straight through my front.

 “You don’t want another?” Clarke tilted her head to one side, pressing the cigarette back to her lips, “That’s fine. I guess I’ll just have to find myself some other austere club-owner.”

 The natural beast within me growled at her words and I took a step forwards, reinstating my charge, “The other club-owners wouldn’t know how to handle you.”

 “There she is.” Clarke’s lips curved into a provocative smirk, “I knew the real you was in there somewhere.”

 “Stop looking at me like that, Clarke.” I solicited, trying not to recognise how quickly she’d restored my flare.

 “Or what?” Her wicked smile widened.

 Without giving her the chance to blink let alone finish off her smoke, I plucked the cigarette from her mouth and tossed it to the floor. My hands found her hips and I pulled her towards me, moving my lips to brush hers tantalisingly slow and running my tongue gently across hers. Part of me liked the taste of the menthol tobacco on her kiss. Maybe it was because I was so used to the scent of smoke from spending a lot of time at clubs. Or maybe it was Clarke who’d converted me to it.

 Her fingers reflexively curled around my arms, pulling me that inch closer to her, “I’m going to have to punish you for wasting my cigarette.” She chastised into the kiss, tightening her hold on me.

 The way she’d said it was too full of promise to overlook.

 “You’re certain it was a waste?” I asked, pulling back slightly to meet her gaze.

 “No. The alternative was more satisfying. But I like the idea of punishing you anyway.”

 Her words clawed over my skin, the familiar knots in my stomach gripping at my muscles.

  _I like the idea of you punishing me too._

 “And when are you planning on punishing me?” I whispered, tugging at her lower lip with my teeth.

 She let me claim her mouth for a moment longer before she pulled away, “Come over. Tonight.” She purred, “On one condition.”

 I waited.

 At present, there could have been ten conditions and I would have agreed to all of them.

 “Go home. Eat something. Get some sleep.” She said simply, “Then I’ll give you what you want.”

 “And your ribs?” I questioned, my fingers still holding onto her hips.

  _I don’t want to hurt you_.

 “I guess you’ll just have to fuck me slowly.”

  _Jesus._

 I wanted to do it now.

 She knew I did.

 That was why she was looking at me the way she was.

 She wanted me too.

 I nodded, once.

 Clarke appeared satisfied with my compliance and she pivoted on her heel to head back to her car, glancing over her shoulder for just long enough to say, “You’d better hold up your end of the bargain, Lexa. I will know if you don’t.”

 I didn’t doubt it.

 


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clarke slips further and further away from her boundaries in keeping Lexa at a distance when she invites her to her apartment. Despite the injury she had acquired, she is determined to do all she can to treat Gustus. She turns to her mother for advice and the two of them make a discovery about his condition. Her efforts do not go unnoticed by the austere club-owner - but then, nothing ever does.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope that the progression of this story is suitably satiating your Clexa desires. I am intending on adding deeper levels of complexity to the story and any suggestions or thoughts on the content is welcome. Thank you for those who have contributed so far and to those who continue to support the story. I hope you all enjoy the next chapter as much as I enjoyed writing it.

.::. _C_ .::.

 

 I’d took full advantage of Octavia’s late shift to spread myself out around the apartment, lighting a couple of scented candles for my own therapeutic gains.

 I wasn’t nervous.

 Not really.

 It’s just… I’d never pre-arranged to see Lexa before. This was the first time. So, I lacked the confidence knowing how to behave. I was more of a wing-everything-and-hope-for-the-best kind of person.

 Okay, I was a _little_ nervous.

 I had cleared my room as much as possible knowing that it had been a state when she’d last been here… well, I’d shoved all my medical notes into one corner of my work desk, crammed my clothes into my wardrobe, and stuffed an old packet of white powder I’d stumbled across into my underwear drawer.

 I half wished I hadn’t seen it or recalled its presence in my room. I never craved drugs generally; it was only when I got thinking about them spontaneously that it put me in the mood for a hit. I diverted my thoughts to a bottle of vintage wine I’d received for my birthday last year and decided one glass couldn’t hurt.

 I’d kept my outward appearance more or less casual – a floaty white everyday dress. It was nothing special. It wasn’t like it’d be staying on me for long anyway. Besides, I compensated by wearing a lacy bodice underneath. I thought it would be something my stranger would appreciate.

 To tell the truth, I wasn’t entirely sure what time she’d be coming over, which made me all the more uncertain about the whole situation.

 I’d taken some painkillers for my ribs which knocked the edge off the throb.

 When I heard three resolute knocks on my apartment door, I knew Lexa had arrived. I’d worried a little at first that she wouldn’t remember which apartment was mine, but of course she would. She had that self-certainty about her. And she observed everything.

 I opened the door, the glass of wine still in my hand, stepping back to let her in.

 Why was I still feeling this bundle of stress in my chest?

 Lexa graced into my apartment, letting me close the door behind her. I assessed her immediately. She looked significantly more refreshed since the last time I’d seen her, but I knew she hadn’t slept much, if at all. I could see by the suppressed weariness in her eyes.

 The black ripped jeans were tight around her legs, asserting their abundant length and reminding me how they looked when bare.

 “You didn’t sleep.” I remarked, sipping at my drink.

 Lexa drew her lip under her teeth, “A persisting problem.”

 “So, it’s not just a recent thing?”

 She shook her head, “No.”

 For a moment, she appeared as though she may have said something further, but thought better of divulging too much of herself to me. I toyed with the idea of delving deeper. The knowledge that she was here for something other than medical advice instead compelled me to drop the subject altogether.  

 “Come on.” I held my hand out to her, tugging her over to the kitchen counter where the wine stood. I wasn’t sure about her, but I was instantly reliving the heated moments we’d spent together on the hard surface five days ago. I poured her a glass of wine, turning to place it in her fingertips.

 “Wine? Candles? Are you… are you seducing me?” She asked, her tone lightly teasing as she let her hand brush mine, taking the glass from me.

 I couldn’t help but offer her a small smile, “Would it scare you if I was?”

 “It scares me how easily you can.” She pressed the rim of the glass to her lips and I felt the annoying thud behind my sternum falter. Instead of looking too deeply into her passing comment, I moved past her, going to sit on the sofa, waiting for her to join me.

 “No change with Gustus?” I asked, folding my legs beneath me on the cushions.

 Lexa shook her head, elegantly draping one leg over the other as she lipped her wine.

“I’m sorry.” It was all I could offer her.

 She placed her empty glass on the coffee table and I stood, going to get us a refill.

 It was good wine. There was no wonder we’d gotten through the first round so quickly.

 Or maybe I was just trying to excuse the fact that I relied heavily on alcoholic substances to deal with my quiet anxieties. This wasn’t just an accidental encounter with Lexa. We’d planned it. Anyway, wine was wine. And I needed more.

 “Don’t be. It is what it is.” She said simply, her eyes following each movement I made.

 “Look…” I began taking a (very) prolonged drink of the beverage, “I go back to work in a week or so. I won’t be able to do any kind of manual labour, but I’ll do some research in the meantime. I’ll do everything I can.”

 Lexa’s eyes flickered to mine and she nodded, “Thank you, Clarke.”

 I knew she was grateful. Probably more than I realised. She was a woman of few words but I’d never heard her say something she didn’t mean. I said nothing further on the subject. I imagined she didn’t want to talk about it. That wasn’t why she was here.

 As she sipped at her wine, she dropped her free hand to trail light circles over my ankle. It was a subtle gesture, but I could feel the white hot trail her fingers left over my skin.

 Placing my wine glass down, I met her gaze directly, “Come here.”

 Her breath left her lips softly and she took another mouthful before abandoning it on the table, edging her way towards me. I’d angled my body so I was supine on the sofa, my head leaning on the armrest. I guided her by the elbow, pulling her so she was hovering above me.

 “Kiss me.” I requested, locking my eyes on hers. The words were useless. I knew she would have done it without me asking.

 Lowering herself down gently, conscious of my ribs, Lexa supported her weight on her forearms, her pale stare resolved on mine. She closed the gap between our lips, taking control of the kiss immediately as my fingers slid to rest on her bicep. She left them there for a few seconds before she took my hand in hers, trapping it above my head. I could feel the murmur of sound escape me as she pushed my lips apart, deepening the kiss. I let her steal my oxygen, yielding it to her mouth willingly.

 She kissed hard. She kissed with intent.

 “Lexa…” I murmured throatily, breaking away to let my body breathe.

 But she just trailed her lips over my cheek, finding the space beneath my jaw, her hand pressing mine harder into the armrest. Despite the fact I was the one giving the orders, she made me utterly powerless and I loved it.

 Lexa sucked my skin gently, sliding her tongue down to my collarbone, her fingers releasing mine and dragging down the inside of my wrist. She kept going until her hand cupped the side of my neck, raising her head upwards so she could deliver me a look of pure yearning.

 “Sit up, Clarke.”

 I did as she bid, my legs either side of her hips. She began to pull my dress up over my head, her gaze drawing over my body. That was when her hands faltered as she caught sight of my lace bodice.

 I raised an eyebrow expectantly.

 It was hard to tell what she was thinking, but by the way she quickly caught herself and speedily yanked the dress over my head so she could appreciate me in full, I assumed she liked what she saw.

 Her lips parted and she pulled her eyes back to my face, “You _were_ trying to seduce me.”

 I laughed in surprise at her gentle tease. She was so serious most of the time, I couldn’t help but be taken aback when she allowed me a glimpse of her humour.

 “Did I succeed?” I asked, my hands reaching forwards to pull her long sleeved top up past her toned stomach.

 She assisted me in removing it, throwing it onto the ground and leaning forwards again, answering me with the smallest hint of an uncommon smile before she pressed her lips back to mine.

 I knew she was bridling her desire to be rough with me, just as I was with her. But at the same time, I think it was so difficult for us both because all we’d been with each other so far was impulsively raw and animalistic.

 This was new.

 And I was cautious.

 Lexa was probably a little surer of it all than I was, but that was to be expected. Nothing seemed to faze her.

 Divaricating space between my thighs, she moved to meet my hips with hers, the contact making me inhale sharply. I could feel her heat as she dragged me to straddle her lap, her lips continuing to occupy mine as her hand shifted to unzip me from behind.

 She was assertive with my body, relocating it to where she wanted it, but she was never rough. She didn’t inflict further pain to my side once. After she’d cast the skimpy bodice to the side, her eyes ran briefly over the purple bruise still decorating my ribs.

 Before she could hesitate and question whether she should continue or not, I grabbed her by the hair and tugged her head back down to mine, biting down on her lip to remind her I wasn’t a doll.

 “Fuck me.” I growled softly.

 “Mind your tone, Dr Griffin, or I’ll leave you within an inch of finishing.”

 I believed her.

 I silenced myself, allowing her to take charge of the pace as she moved me so I was once again on my back. This time, her hands curled around my calves, suddenly hoisting my legs up around her shoulders. I’d been in plenty of similar positions with men before, but it was so much sexier with Lexa between my thighs. Sexier because it was Lexa, but sexier still because she seemed to know exactly what she was doing.

 She began by just using her hand, keeping her eyes focused on mine so she could read my every expression.

 It was as intense and as hot as hell.

 Eventually, she leaned down to capture my mouth with hers before kissing her way down my body to join her hand. My feet dropped onto her back, my toes curling against her skin as she moved.

 I could hardly handle it, even though she was purposefully holding back the vigour she ordinarily used. She compensated for it easily with skill.

 My hand twisted into her hair and tightened as she brought me to a blinding finish, each wave more powerful than the last. She kept going until I couldn’t take anymore, my body collapsing backwards in defeat. It was painful, the throb in my side, but the other sensation I was experiencing made it easy to ignore.

 Once the latter feeling began to subside, I took several breaths, the stabbing of my ribs increasing. I wasn’t sure I’d be able to manoeuvre myself with the flexibility required, but I had a better idea.

 Lexa was demurely running her tongue over her lips as she straightened up, my body following. I swung my legs over the edge of the sofa and stood, downing the rest of my wine as I held out a hand to her.

 She unquestioningly took it, allowing me to lead her towards my bedroom – this time I remembered to take our clothes with us.

 Once I’d closed my bedroom door behind us, I walked over to the bed, “I want you to sit on my face.” There was no eloquent way of putting it.

 Her eyes widened marginally at my manner of my request, but she crawled towards me across the mattress as I stretched myself flat, directing her thighs to rest either side of my head.

 My stranger’s sounds alone were enough to keep me going.

 Her hands flung to grip the headboard as I gave her what she needed, quickly learning from the new position what she liked.

 The headboard began to tremble behind me, the definition of her muscles clenching as she came into my mouth. I halted for just a moment before I continued, slowly at first, until her body understood I was giving her a second round, and finally responded.

 She gasped as I clamped her thighs down with my arms to stop her from moving, bringing her to finish for a second time.

 Her voice was strained as she cried out once again, her forehead dropping onto the wood. I caught the remnants of her expression and I couldn’t help but stare.

 She was exposed – obviously not just in a literal sense. But metaphorical.

 I watched the tension she’d been harbouring disperse, her body weakening from the pleasure.

 “Clarke…” It was halfway between a chastisement and a ‘thank you’.

 Once she’d gathered the ability to move, she dropped down onto the mattress beside me, shaking her head, “Now I owe you.”

 “You needed that second one more than I did.” I informed her, “Besides, I don’t think my side could take any more.” I added with a sheepish smile.

 “Still, I hate being in debt.”

 I shrugged, lightly, “Don’t worry. I’m sure you’ll find a way to pay it off.”

 “So, you admit this will happen again?”

 “It’s going to have to if you’re to pay me what I’m due.”

 She observed me for a prolonged moment before she began to get up.

 Reflexively, my hand shot out to grab her wrist and she stopped, her eyes flipping back to mine in shock.

 “It’s okay. You don’t need to go. Not right away.” I told her, quietly.

 Lexa raised an eyebrow, her expression sealing over with a protective mask, “Isn’t that what we do?”

 I shrugged, “It’s what we’ve done. Stay for another drink.”

 She paused for a moment before a cloak of irritation covered her face, making her look as though she might curse, “I’m over the limit.” She muttered, “I’ll have to call my driver anyway.”

 “Well, if you’re going to call your driver, which is as classy as hell by the way, you may as well go over the limit a little more…”

 She hesitated, the shadow of amusement lining her features as she debated internally with herself, before she slowly inclined her head, “If you’re sure you want me to.”

 I rolled my eyes, “It’s just a drink, Lexa. No need to get freaked out.” I teased, standing up, “I’ll be right back.”

 I didn’t bother with clothes. Octavia wasn’t due back for another hour or something.

 I took our empty glasses back into the bedroom with the wine bottle, my eyes landing on Lexa sitting on the bed, completely naked.

 I couldn’t help but stare, and it seemed neither could she.

 Shamelessly, she rolled her eyes over my body, so I thought it was only fair to return the favour.

 Except she had mastered it to be so much more intimidating. I imagined I just looked like a drooling dog about to get dinner.

 “How come you’re so in shape?” I heard myself asking, going to join her on my bed, plumping out the pillows against the headboard.

 She raised an eyebrow as I refilled our glasses, resting the bottle on my bedside table, “In shape?” She asked.

 “Yeah. Like, you know…” I shuffled back, taking a mouthful of wondrous alcohol, “You’re obviously very… physically active.”

 She glanced me up and down, briefly.

 I caught my cheeks heating up at the insinuation behind her stare, “I mean, do you have some exclusive VIP gym you attend every day or something?”

 “Oh. I train.” She shrugged slightly.

 I couldn’t help but feel her answer was a little evasive, “Train in what?” I asked.

 “Mainly Taekwondo. Some Krav Maga… A select few others of the arts.” She sighed, “And now you’re going to think I’m pretentious.”

 I couldn’t help but snort, “Why would I think you’re pretentious for doing martial arts?”

 She just shrugged again, taking another sip, “Some people assume I do it because of the line of work I’m in. To intimidate others, or to make myself appear tough.”

  _Honestly, just look at somebody the way you look at me and watch them crumble. No Taekwondo needed._

 “So, why do you do it?”

 I was aware I was beginning an interrogation. But I blamed the wine.

 “To relieve stress. To keep fit.” She ran her fingertip around the edge of her wine glass, “But mainly for self-discipline.”

 I nodded, biting my lip lightly at the thought of Lexa in training gear, dominating a fight.

 “Do you do it professionally, or…?” I turned back to look at her.

 “Not really. Not anymore.”

 It must have been the alcohol channelling through my system, because I wouldn’t have ordinarily allowed myself to be this chatty around her. Of their own accord, my eyes grazed her body up and down, “I bet you’re good at it.”

 The ghost of an amused smile tailed her lips, “Oh?”

 I nodded, letting my nails pull down the flat of her stomach, “Mm…” I murmured.

 “What makes you say that?” She was clearly spurring me on for her own entertainment.

 “Have you seen yourself?” I scoffed, “I’d have no chance at survival up against you.”

 “Very few do.” Her eyes followed my fingers for a moment before she shifted them back up to mine, her confidence impenetrable, “Then again, you seem to have survived pretty well up to now.”

 I just smirked and swung one leg over her thighs, effectively straddling her as she just eyed the wine glass sitting precariously in my fingers. She hid it pretty well, but I knew her amusement was increasing.

 “I bet I’d be able to land a couple of punches on you first before you destroyed me.” I murmured, leaning forwards and trailing my lips along the side of her throat. She tilted her head back, a soft exhale leaving her mouth.

 “I don’t doubt it, Dr Griffin.”

 “Don’t call me that. You know what it does to me.” I berated, nipping at her jaw.

 But I suspected that’s why she did it.

 Her free hand slid to my thigh and she squeezed gently.

 “I know other ways of bringing you to your knees, anyway.” I swept my lips adeptly to her ear, feeling her breathing stutter as I ran my tongue over her skin.

 She probably would have compromised my position in a heartbeat if I wasn’t A) injured, and B) somehow still managing to hold onto my glass of wine without spillage thus far.

 “ _Clarke! I’ve got pizza! Since you were yelling at me last night for never bringing you surprise food…_ ” Octavia was outside my door. I hadn’t even heard her come in, “ _I’m coming in so you’d best be decent.”_

 “Hang on!” It was all I could shout as I quickly rolled off Lexa’s legs, dragging the quilt up to cover our chests. Why did she _always_ walk in on me?

 Then again, I’d walked in on her plenty of times throughout our friendship history. It was an accidental habit of ours.

 One that needed breaking. Pronto.

 She pushed open the door anyway, her mouth full of pizza as she brandished the box towards me. She almost choked when her eyes landed on Lexa.

 Lexa, of course, merely surveyed her without a word, or even any kind of reaction whatsoever.

 “Jesus Chri–” Octavia abandoned her traipse into my room and turned on her heel, taking the pizza back out with her.

 I glanced apologetically over to Lexa, “Sorry, she doesn’t listen.” I muttered, annoyed at myself for losing track of time so easily.

 My stranger continued her silence, her wine glass still positioned elegantly in her fingers.

 Sometimes, I wished she wasn’t such a blank canvas. I could barely read her when she was in this state.

 “Are you…” I began a little awkwardly, “…What are you thinking?”

 She turned her eyes to me, “Would you like me to leave?”

 “No, it’s not that.” I shook my head too quickly, the essence of the wine leaving me dizzy, “Are you uncomfortable?” I asked, a little uncertainly. I got the impression Lexa would be the sort to despise intrusions on her privacy.

 “With what?”

 I frowned, “I don’t know. Just… interruptions. You don’t seem like the kind of person who would appreciate them.”

 “Depends who’s doing the interrupting.” She tilted her head to one side, subjecting me to a brief once-over, “I ought to go, though. I’ll message my driver.” I watched as she finished her drink, pushing back the covers to stand up, and walking with natural confidence over to her clothes. She pulled on her underwear, her phone in her hand.

 “You don’t want any?” I asked, although I wasn’t surprised when she refused.

 “Thank you, but no.”

 I guessed it was just me who became pizza-prone when drinking, then.

 “He should arrive within about five minutes.” She informed me as she pulled on her clothes. I watched her clothe herself, wondering whether the fates would be so inclined to let us bump into each other again.

 “Lexa…” I began, “If I’m going to be doing research for Gustus, is there a way you’d like me to keep in contact with you?”

 Her eyes trailed up to mine as she fastened her bra, “Clarke, if you want my number, all you need to do is ask.”

 I mock-scowled at her light jibe, “Fine. Give me your number.”

 Once she’d pulled her dark top down to cover her olive-skinned stomach, she raised an eyebrow, “That’s not asking.”

 “And that’s not giving me your number.” I retorted, sliding out of bed, shoving my phone into her hand, “Put it in, and stop giving me lip.”

 She almost smirked, taking the device from my fingers and typing it into my contacts, “You’re sure you don’t want to retract that statement?” She asked, and I suddenly realised the double meaning of my words.

 I coloured. Just slightly.

 But she noticed.

 Of course she did.

 She noticed everything.

 She made a wise choice in keeping her mouth sealed, and instead slid the phone back into my hold, meeting my eyes once again. Her own phone bleeped and she zipped up her boots, without moving her gaze. I was impressed by her skill in not needing to look at what she was doing – even after drinking vintage wine.

 I’d dropped a football shirt over my head, courtesy of one of the males I’d been known to entertain, and let it hang by my thighs after pulling on my own underwear, but with much less stability than Lexa demonstrated. Automatically, she reached out a hand to steady me, her fingers pressing lightly against the small of my back.

 It was such a subtle gesture that it caught me off-guard. Silently, I smoothed out the t-shirt, unable to avoid catching her eye.

 Once she’d straightened up and picked up her bag, I led her out of my bedroom and through into the living area where Octavia was curled up on the sofa.

 “Thanks for coming.” I always struggled with saying bye… I never knew what to say without making it sound more of a formal farewell. But then, I didn’t like saying ‘see you later’ because that carried far too much promise. Equally, the words I used carried a far too indiscreet underlying suggestion, and I was pretty certain Lexa acknowledged both meanings. She allowed her gaze to rest on mine for a moment more, an understated flicker passing over her eyes.

 “Goodbye, Clarke.”

 I was more than just a little taken aback when Lexa then turned to my housemate and inclined her head politely, “Goodbye, Octavia.”

 It seemed she was just as stunned as I was.

 Lexa wasn’t exactly known to acknowledge things or people that held no interest to her.

 Octavia blinked and wiggled her fingers in a mildly startled wave, “Yeah, see you later… no doubt I’ll walk in on you guys naked again sometime soon.”

 I could have launched the entire door at her head. Hinges and all.

 Lexa took it in her stride however and simply raised an eyebrow, “Well, until next time then.”

 Her response would have made me smile if I wasn’t so horror-stricken by Octavia’s comment.

 I turned my gaze back to Lexa as she headed out my apartment, giving me one last glance before she disappeared.

 As soon as I closed the door, I rounded on Octavia, but she was already holding the pizza box up to me as a peace offering, “I’m so very sorry. I panicked.”

 I was too tipsy and hungry to be pissy, so I just governed her with a narrow glare, snatching the box from her hand and going to sit down beside her, “Thank you.” I mumbled begrudgingly.

 “So, again, huh?” She quirked an eyebrow at me as I took a much longed-for bite of the pizza, “Another spontaneous rendezvous?”

 I shrugged, “Not exactly.” I glossed over bumping into her when I picked up my car.

 Octavia tilted her head back, as she listened, “I don’t know how you do it. She scares the hell out of me.”

 “You and me both.” I nodded in agreement.

 She laughed, “I really need to stop walking in on you both.”

 “No shit.”

 “It’s disturbing.” Octavia added, throwing her legs across my lap as she leaned back into the sofa. I didn’t comment that she was sitting in the exact place I was when Lexa fucked me, “So… you like her.”

 “I like fucking her.”

 She dug her heel lightly into my thigh in reproof, “God, tell me something I don’t know. What I meant is that you _like_ her.”

 My eyes snapped over to hers and I grimaced, “Don’t. It’s not like that.”

 I wasn’t sure who I was trying to convince.

 It was impossible to be around her and not appreciate every glimpse of dimension she displayed. But, it was intoxicated Clarke driving my mind, not sober Clarke. And I learned I should never to listen to either of those Clarkes as they both tended to get me into trouble.

 “She has to care about you some too though.” She continued, “Otherwise she wouldn’t have even looked at me.”

 “What do you mean by that?” I raised an eyebrow, helping myself to a fourth slice. It was too good to waste.

 “Well, from what little I know about her, I don’t think she would have made an effort to acknowledge me unless she was doing it for your sake. I mean, her ego is in a league of its own.”

 I grumbled to myself before muttering, “Stop. I overthink things just fine on my own without your help. When’s Lincoln back?”

 “Tomorrow. I’ve got the next couple of days off.”

 I nodded, continuing to make idle chit-chat until I’d finished my food, “Thanks for the pizza.”

 “You’re welcome, dirty whore.”

 “The pleasure was all mine, cock-sucking peasant.” I gave her a royal wave of my hand before disappearing off to go to bed.

…

 

 As promised, I threw myself into research over the next couple of days. I was hitting a lot of dead ends, and I was pretty sure the information I was processing was already being done by the doctors.

 I sighed, leaning away from my computer screen.

 Neurology wasn’t my area of expertise either.

 If I was serious about putting everything into aiding Gustus’ recovery, I knew I’d have to get some advice from somebody else. Somebody who was experienced with this kind of thing.

 Although it was a painstakingly difficult reality to admit, I knew I had to talk to my mother. She’d been trying to call me ever since she’d found Lexa and I in the hospital carpark.

 I groaned to myself and grabbed my car keys.

 Upon my arrival at the hospital, the receptionist informed me my mother was in her office; I wasn’t sure if I’d got lucky that she wasn’t in surgery or not.

 I knocked on the door, biting my lip when I heard her respond.

 “ _Come in_.”

 Pushing open the door and stepping into the office, I watched the way her dark eyes widened, “Clarke.” She stood up immediately and walked towards me, wrapping her arms around my shoulders before I could protest.

 I exhaled quietly, but endured her embrace, patting her lightly on the arm.

 “How are you feeling? Are your ribs healing okay?”

 I shrugged, “They’re okay… Mom, what’s the treatment for a patient in a coma?”

 “You’re not working, are you?” Her eyebrows creased as she took a step back to examine me, but I shook my head quickly.

 “No. It’s just… an acquaintance of mine. He’s in a coma. I resuscitated him in ER a few days ago, but he hasn’t woken up yet.”

 She frowned slightly, “That would depend why he’s in a coma. Was it medically induced?”

 I shook my head, “No. He was stabbed. There was nothing to suggest he’d received head trauma. The doctor checked him over and didn’t say anything was amiss. I wondered if it was just from the shock of needing resus.”

 My mother leaned against the desk, indicating for me to sit down. I did, waiting for her to speak.

 “Which senior was on at the time?” She asked suddenly, drumming her fingers against the wood.

 “Dr Emerson.”

 She resumed her seat at her desk and opened up the patient database on her computer, “Give me the patient’s name.”

 I told her, before falling silent as she looked Gustus up on the system.

 “It’s not an official coma…” She began, scrolling through his notes, “Not yet. It doesn’t seem as though they’ve done enough tests on him to find out because it suggests here he’s been somewhat responsive to external stimuli, without waking…” I knew that tone. She was pissy at the staff for noticing their lack of exhaustive measures into his case.

 She was a fiercely dedicated doctor. She couldn’t understand anybody who didn’t possess the same level of passion she did.

 I supposed it was how she got to be so successful. I also supposed her passion was hereditary.

 I peered over her shoulder, “Wait. Mom, what’s that? At the bottom…” I pointed to an earlier note from a few years ago. He didn’t have an extensive history, so the notes were pretty limited.

 “What? Oh, it’s just some blood test results. Nothing related to this.” She told me.

 “Click it.”

 She raised an eyebrow at my tone, but pressed it anyway, opening up the note.

 I quickly scanned through it at the same pace she did.

  _Fuck_.

 “Mom, his coma isn’t anything to do with the attack. He’s diabetic.” I straightened up suddenly, “How did this get missed?”

 My mother raised her head to look at me, her jaw tightening, “How indeed.” She rose to her feet, “Come on.”

 “Is this my fault?” I asked suddenly, “I should have checked through his notes properly!”

 She shook her head, “No. Dr Emerson should have read through the notes during his assessment and checked for any other medical conditions before telling you nothing was amiss. That’s protocol. You saved his life, Clarke. This is not your fault.”

 I had a funny feeling Dr Emerson was going to be in for one hell of a bollocking.

 She closed down his notes and led me out of her office towards the ward Gustus was on.

 She meant business.

 As the overseer for the other doctors, my mother took this mistake personally. She’d never liked Dr Emerson much anyway, and I knew why.

 He was an arrogant twat.

 But this would cost him dearly.

 I followed her onto the bay and headed straight to the clinic room to fetch the BM monitor, a disposable apron and a pair of gloves while my mother went in to assess Gustus’ state. I returned quickly, noticing two people by his bedside. One, a dark-skinned woman, with short black hair and a terrifying stare; the other a surly built bearded gentleman with startling blue eyes and light skin. They both switched their gaze onto me and stood up, “Everything okay?” The woman asked.

 I briefly explained what I was doing as I pinpricked Gustus’ finger, waiting for the reader to finish monitoring his levels, “He’s hypoglycaemic.” I told my mother, “I’ll get the glucagon.” I ducked back out of his room and went to track down a nurse who could direct me to the supply. It took me a couple of minutes to prepare everything, and once I’d measured out an appropriate amount of glucagon for his injection, I rushed back to the room, handing it to my mother, “I’ll only do his vital signs since I’m not officially on shift.” I told her.

 The man was standing outside Gustus’ room, talking away to somebody on the phone, but I didn’t have the time to listen in to who may have been on the other end. All I heard him say was, “Good. Then I’ll see you in a minute.”

 I hated myself for wondering whether he was speaking to Lexa. 

 After a couple of minutes once I’d recorded everything and the injection had been administered, my mother straightened up and went to speak to the lady to explain what was going on.

 I grabbed the remains of the needle in the throwaway tray and went to take it back to the clinic room to dispose of it in the sharps bin. Upon my return, I noted the woman was looking increasingly irritated.

 “So, this was missed in the ER?” She clarified, her jaw setting.

 My mother inclined her head, “Yes, and I cannot find the words to express how sorry I am for this mistake.”

 “You’re sorry?” She took a step closer and I instinctively moved closer out of the natural inclination to protect my mother from this woman’s rage, “You’re sorry?! You’re aware this mistake could cost Gustus his _life_?”

 “Yes.” My mother remained resolute, “And the doctor responsible for missing this will be reprimanded as soon as possible.”

 This didn’t appease the woman, and I could understand why. As she was about to continue with her verbal onslaught, I heard a voice speak calmly from behind me.

 “Indra, that’s enough.”

 I turned, my eyes landing on Lexa. I knew my heart was thudding harder than I’d permitted it to. She spared me a brief glance of acknowledgement before she stepped into the room, her gaze reverting to the woman, with her hands clasped behind her back.

 Although, Indra – a name which I recognised – looked as though she would have very much liked to progress in voicing her fury, Lexa’s soft command prevented her from saying anything further.

 My mother turned to look at the new arrival, and I could have sworn I saw her eyes widen.

  _Shit, did she recognise her?_

 But, she said nothing, and smoothed out her expression, about to open her mouth. Then, Lexa turned to me, her eyes imploring for answers, “A word?”

 I inclined my head as both Indra and the gentleman immediately excused themselves from the room. My mother hesitated, insisting on sending me some kind of meaningful look – although I wasn’t entirely sure what the meaning was.

 “I’m going to speak to the nurse in charge.” She told me, “Are you okay to discuss what we found out, Dr Griffin?”

 I internally rolled my eyes. She’d referred to me that way to remind me of my professional position and to act accordingly, “Yes.”

 I closed the door behind my mother before I moved to face Lexa, “I cannot apologise enough that this bypassed assessment.” I began, the guilt eating away at me from the inside out, “Gustus remained unconscious after resuscitation because he’s diabetic.”

 “Diabetic.” Lexa repeated; she said it as though it was something she’d been aware of it the entire time, but I could tell she’d had no idea.

 I explained going through his notes with my mother and stumbling across the test results.

 Lexa said nothing throughout my explanation, and even the points in which I paused for breath. Eventually I finished with, “So, we’ve injected him with glucagon, and my mother’s gone to speak to the nurse in charge about where it will go from here. It is possible that he was originally unconscious because of the trauma of the attack, and that this has been something that has developed since. His notes suggested he has been vaguely aware of surroundings, rather than in a vegetative state, which was why it was difficult to assess whether he’s in a coma or simply unable to wake from a deep sleep. There’s a difference between the two. Gustus doesn’t have anything else on record about his diabetes, so we will have to look into whether he has been attending a private clinic for treatment and take it from there. Again, I am so sorry that this was missed…” I trailed away, glancing over to Gustus and then to the floor.

 I couldn’t help but blame myself. If only I’d checked his notes instead of assuming Emerson had; regardless of whose job it was.

 “If I double checked I could have stopped this…” I was muttering to myself more than to her.

 “Clarke, stop.”

 I shut my mouth, keeping my eyes on the floor.

 That was when I felt her hand slide into mine, “Look at me.”

 With difficulty, I did. But the intensity of her pale green stare was enough to keep me locked on her eyes.

 “Stop blaming yourself.”

  _How?_

As if she’d read my mind, she inched a step closer, “You sustained an injury helping a patient not officially under your care. An injury you’re supposed to be taking sick leave from. You came in anyway and went out of your way to involve your mother to help Gustus. That can’t have been particularly easy for you.”

 She must have been referring to the time she’d seen both my mother and I exchange heated words in the parking lot.

 Lexa continued, “On top of that, you found out a minute detail that had not been properly recorded, probably due to Gustus seeing somebody else about it, and came down with your mother to treat it immediately. This is the second time you’ve saved his life.”

 “I would’ve done the same for anybody.” I mumbled.

 My stranger continued to survey me, “The point is you did it for Gustus, Clarke. You’ve done everything you can, and you cannot blame yourself for that. I fear I’m building up quite a debt to you.”

 For some reason, I couldn’t hide. We were close, but for the first time, it wasn’t because I wanted to tear her clothes off – or her mine.

 I was certainly not opposed to the idea, but that wasn’t the point.

 “You owe me nothing.” I told her, fiercely.

 She received my eyes with quiet ease, the tight space between us charged. Her fingers trailed along the edge of my wrist and moved to my elbow, pulling me closer to her. She parted her lips to speak again, but the door opened and I broke away from her quickly.

 Although, probably not quickly enough.

 I received a blank stare from my mother, knowing she was dying to lecture me, but held back due to her professional values, “I’ve spoken to the nurse in charge.” She addressed Lexa, who remained as impassively stoic as usual, “Gustus will be monitored constantly during this period by one of our diabetic nurses. She will continue to administer glucagon as needed and keep you as informed as possible. I will discuss this with the senior doctor who assessed him on ER and update you as and when. If you wish to file a complaint, speak to a member of the nursing staff and they will be happy to take you through the process.”

 “Thank you, doctor.”

 Part of me was pleased she didn’t refer to my mother as Dr Griffin, otherwise I was certain I would never be able to hear her say it to me again in the way she did when we were alone.

 “Clarke, you should go home now.” She told me.

 Without looking at my mother, I nodded my head, “Right.” I stepped from the room, feeling Lexa’s stare on my back as I left.

 Why was five minutes with her never enough?

 

.::. _L_ .::.

 

 Watching Clarke walk away left me feeling oddly empty.

 Perhaps I wasn’t used to seeing her without a moment of blinding hot gratification.

 But then, in place of that, I’d received a far different sensation; a gratitude extending beyond the reach of physical satisfaction.

 I meant what I’d said to her.

 She’d done everything she could for Gustus thus far.

 I knew that was because of her commitment to preserving life rather than out of any kind of sentimentality towards me.

 She would go out of her way or any of her patients because that’s just who she was. I supposed that was one of the reasons I was so drawn to her… her unyielding dedication to her cause, and her loyalty to her patients. It spoke volumes about her character.

 That kind of quality wasn’t common in many people.

 I also supposed that it was just some coincidence I held some interest to her along the way.

 Clarke’s mother was jotting something down on a clipboard before she glanced up at me with dark eyes.

 Physically, there wasn’t a great likeness between her and her daughter. But I could see the resemblance in their facial expressions, and their mannerisms.

 I was willing to bet Clarke’s mother equalled her stubbornness. They both held the same dedicated glint in their eyes.

 “Thank you for your patience and understanding.” She told me, although I knew she was assessing me for a greater purpose. I wasn’t used to people so shrewdly appraising me – that was usually a gesture reserved for me – but Abby Griffin understandably wasn’t interested in what I was ‘used to’. After all, I was fucking her daughter. Hard.

I inclined my head, “Thank you for going out of your way to help Gustus.”

 “That’s what I’m here for.”

 Clarke had said something similar to me in the ER. Their similarities broadened further.

 The doctor continued to scrutinise me for a moment longer before she excused herself and turned to leave.

 She’d witnessed Clarke’s hands running their way all over me, and I’d been the one to lead her away from the scene. I could only imagine the resentment she felt towards me. It hadn’t helped that she’d seen me standing so close to Clarke just a few moments ago.

 I doubted she’d forget any of those memories in a hurry.

 Then again, that made the two of us.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clarke's mother contacts her with news of Gustus' condition. A run-in with Lexa at the hospital leaves them both wanting. But, if Lexa has anything to do with it (and she does), they won't be wanting for long.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much to those of you who have offered your support. It's so needed and so appreciated. Please, keep your thoughts coming thick and fast (oops, still in dirty-writing mode.)  
> On that uncomfortable note, please... enjoy. 
> 
> xox

.::.  _C_ .::.

 

 “ _I wouldn’t ordinarily be calling you about a patient, Clarke, but since you told me Gustus was an acquaintance of yours, I feel I’m justified in calling you with the news._ ”

 My mother was putting her ‘doctor voice’ to good use. I switched my phone to my other ear, holding it between my face and my shoulder as I served lunch out for myself, Octavia, and Lincoln.

 “Bad news?” I asked, my heart fluttering as I waited for her to enlighten me.

 “ _Actually, no. Gustus woke up. This morning._ ” She told me, and I released a breath I hadn’t realised I was holding in.

 “Oh, thank god. How is he?” I took the plates over to the dining table, setting them in front of my hungry housemate and her boyfriend.

 “ _Still under assessment. But it’s looking promising so far._ ”

 I joined the other two at the table and stabbed at my eggs with a fork, “So, he’s responsive?” I asked.

 “ _Yes. He’s still drowsy of course, and disorientated. But that’s fully to be expected._ ”

 I swallowed my current mouthful, “And what about Dr Emerson? Have you spoken to him yet?”

 My mother hesitated on the other end, choosing her words carefully, “ _I have… Unfortunately, I can’t go into detail about that. Employee confidentiality and such._ ” She paused again before she exhaled quietly, “ _Clarke, we need to talk._ ”

 “About…?” I scoffed, my mouth full once more.

 “ _About everything. Clarke, I barely see you anymore. You never speak to me. You ignore my calls, my messages. Do you understand how surprised and grateful I was just to see you the other day? Even if it was for somebody else._ ”

 I wasn’t doing this over breakfast on the phone, “Mom, can we talk later? I have studying to do.”

 “ _Clarke, wait_ –”

 I hung up before she could continue, pleased Octavia and Lincoln had taken initiative and were currently involved in some conversation about arranging another night out.

 “Maybe Clarke’s special friend can get us all on the guest list for free for another one at Polis.” Octavia jibed lightly.

 I avoided explaining that my ‘special friend’ probably wouldn’t be attending the club any time soon due to recent events, and instead just smirked, “Please, what would she want you mugs there for?”

 “I’m sure you’d find a way of… persuading her.” Octavia waggled her eyebrows suggestively, only to narrowly miss a launched cut of sausage in her direction.

 “Yeah, I’ll offer to whore you out to her.”

 Lincoln cleared his throat and sipped at his juice, saying nothing.

 Octavia, of course, picked up on this instantly and rounded on him, “Oh, my god. Stop picturing it, you perve!”

 He just sent her an innocent stare, “I didn’t even say anything!”

 She finished off her breakfast and stood up, narrowing her eyes at me, “I blame you.”

 “Blame me all you like, just so long as you clear up.” I smiled sweetly, standing up and heading back into my bedroom to attempt to study.

 Of course, I knew my efforts would be futile.

 The Chancellor had found his way into my bedroom and was sitting atop my notes, flicking his tail in expectation.

 “For god’s sake.” I muttered, running my fingers through his fur, “Stop looking at me like that. Your face is so cute it hurts. And it will cost me my career. And then what, hm? Who’s going to buy your food? It most certainly won’t be me when I’m out of a job, will it?”

 With my free hand, I pulled out my phone and began to flick through my unread messages from Niylah and some guy I’d met on a night out a few weeks ago. I had no recollection of his name. He was simply saved as ‘Mildly Attractive Drunk Male’. I had zero interest in messaging either of them.

 My thumb hovered over the new message tab, and I exhaled, caving into pressing it.

 I knew exactly who I was writing out this next message to, despite my instincts telling me to stop.

 

_[12:01] To: Lexa_

_I heard Gustus woke up so I just thought I’d drop you a message to say how pleased I am, and_

 

 I hesitated. That sounded pathetic. I deleted it, and tried once more.

 

  _[12:04] To: Lexa_

_I just heard about Gustus. Seems he’s almost as tough as you. C._

Still pathetic. But I’d already hit send before I could talk myself out of it.

 It was about another twenty minutes before I got a response from her.

 

  _[12:26] From: Lexa_

_I wondered when you were going to make use of my number, C._

 

 I grimaced. Putting ‘C’ at the end of my first message was to enlighten her which person belonged to the unidentified number. It wasn’t permission for her to call me that. Especially because I knew she thought she was being funny. To get my own back, I waited a while before I replied.

 

  _[13:23] To: Lexa_

_I finally had an excuse. How is he?_

 

Another twenty-five minutes.

 

  _[13:47] From: Lexa_

_Sleeping, mostly. But, he’s improving. I presume you’re still somewhat crippled yourself?_

 

 The Chancellor had eventually gotten bored of my affection and had swanned off for Octavia to let him out. That meant I was somehow managing to get some studying done between replies, before I gave it up as a bad job. Who even decided revision was essential to existence?

 Probably somebody who never had to do a single exam in their lives.

 

   _[14:06] To: Lexa_

_Good. Keep that up and you’ll be joining me with some injuries of your own._

 

 I didn’t expect I’d get a response to that. I pushed my phone away and glanced down at my revision notes. Well, there were supposed to be notes. Instead, I’d caught myself sketching out some scenic memory; mountains, lakes, trees…

 I stopped myself as soon as I recognised the image.

 I didn’t want to dwell on it.

 Then my phone vibrated. A welcome distraction.

 I glanced at the screen.

 

  _[14:41] From: Lexa_

_Is that supposed to scare me, Dr Griffin?_

 “Oh, fuck off.” I muttered, knowing exactly the sultry manner in which Lexa intended her text to be read. I also knew it turned me on… even without audibly hearing her say it. It felt weird messaging her. Like, that was a completely normal social interaction to participate in. But, somehow, it felt bizarre simply because I couldn’t imagine Lexa as the sort to waste her time with idle small-talk. Especially over text. Saying that, she still maintained her formalities to an amusing standard.

 

  _[14:59] To: Lexa_

_The plus side of being a doctor – I can name every bone in your body while I’m breaking it. So, you tell me. Are you scared?_

This time, her reply was almost immediate.

 

  _[15:00] From: Lexa_

_Terrified._

 

 I smirked to myself at the unlikely image of anything scaring Lexa whatsoever. It just wasn’t a feasible picture. I left it for a while, deciding it couldn’t hurt for the ball to be in my court for a little longer. I knew I wanted her again. I was in a perpetual state of wanting her.

 She could work my body in ways nobody else ever had.

 It left me hot under the proverbial collar to think about.

 In retrospect, we hadn’t even spent that much time together. I guessed it was just the novelty of having somebody who gave me what I wanted without expecting anything further from me.

 And I enjoyed giving it back to her just as much.

 

.::. _L_.::.

 

 “You don’t have to babysit me, you know.”

 I tilted my head to one side, surveying the grumpy expression beneath the mountainous facial hair, “Good morning to you, too.”

 Gustus released a strained sigh, shifting uncomfortably in his bed as I resumed a seat by his side, “I mean it.”

 “I know you do.” I placed a bottle of juice on his bedside table along with a basket of grapes. I knew he hated the hospital food.

 “You’re still angry with me.” He tilted his head back against the pillows and let his stare rest on the ceiling.

 I shook my head lightly, “I wish you’d have told me about your health, yes. It would have made all of this far simpler. But, I understand why you kept it to yourself. So, no. I’m not angry with you… and I’m not babysitting you either. I’m making sure you’re receiving the treatment you deserve.”

 “And you’re making sure nobody turns up to finish the job.”

 In my eyes, that wasn’t a bad thing. I looked after my own. I always had.

 I’d been unable to visit for the past few days due to business elsewhere, but his improvement was vastly noticeable. The last time I’d seen him, he’d struggled to maintain a conversation for longer than a minute. I could see that, despite the reluctance from being bedbound, he was significantly more alert.

 I knew he was in good hands at the hospital. Ever since Abby Griffin had gotten Dr Emerson temporarily suspended, the staff had paid particular attention to Gustus. I was also aware my presence had a powerful impact on their efficiency… whether they fully knew who I was and the influence I had on local society or not. The unspoken reason behind my frequent visits at the hospital was to ensure nobody else returned to finish the job on Gustus they’d started. He’d already picked up on that, though. He wasn’t thick.

 “Well, actually, I’ve asked the staff to put me in touch with my private doctor. I’m waiting to hear back whether he can get me moved to his service. That way I can receive home treatment. From what I gather, I’m lucky I’m not a vegetable. It sounds like I very nearly could have been.”

 “I need to know for certain who did this to you.” I informed him, keeping my tone level regardless of the fury I felt towards his attacker, “Nyko suggested Nation Casino… one of Nia’s men. He’s convinced he knows the culprit, but I have to be absolutely sure of it before I can give the order.”

 Gustus said nothing for a few moments before he inclined his head, “I know you want me to remember. But, the truth is, I can’t. At all. The entire night is just black… Nation Casino would make sense though.”

 I nodded and leaned back in my seat, “We will find out who did this. But, I don’t want to begin anything while you’re in here. It would be too easy for them to find you.”

 The door opened slowly, cutting our conversation short.

 A soft floral scent swept into the room, and I turned, recognising the signature smell immediately, “You’re back.”

 Clarke offered me a small smile, her white doctor’s jacket curving appealingly around her hips, “Yesterday was my first day. How are you feeling, Gustus?”

 His eyes slid across to observe the junior, his eyebrows creasing momentarily – perhaps in vague recognition.

 Yet, he kept his silence; he hated medics. Well… to tell the truth, he wasn’t a fan of people in general.

 “My name is Dr Griffin. I’m one of the juniors who has been following up on your treatment quite closely. I’ve just spoken to your private doctor on the phone. He’s made special arrangements for you to be transported to his rehabilitation centre. He just wants to assess you, but he said depending on how you’re progressing, you may be able to receive care from home.” She kept the professional smile on her lips, and I wanted nothing more than to tear it off and replace it with something far more inappropriate.

 It had been a couple of weeks since I’d last seen her; business had occupied my attention, and my body was starting to become impatient. Or, rather, it was always on edge – always craving. Although, now I saw Clarke here in the flesh, it became increasingly difficult to ignore.

 We’d kept in touch now and again, keeping the other on our radars. But it wasn’t enough to satiate me, and judging by the subtle tension in her muscles, I knew it wasn’t enough for her either.

 I’d have to see to that sooner rather than later. The very thought of it left me feeling restless.

 Gustus still avoided meeting her gaze, but just nodded his head, “When?”

 “Tomorrow morning.” Clarke picked up the clipboard at the bottom of his bed, reviewing his notes, “I’ll fetch a nurse to take your physical observations.”

 I was certain she would have done them herself if it wasn’t for Gustus’ evident dislike towards her.

 It was only when the blue of her eyes landed on my face that I realised I hadn’t moved my gaze from her once.

 “Thank you, Dr Griffin.” I purposefully dragged out her name long enough to catch her attention. Even though I knew I already had it.

 She pulled her lower lip beneath her teeth and delivered me a heated glare, “Not a problem.” She managed, before turning on her heel and closing the door behind her.

 Gustus was brooding quietly, his stare fixed on the door, “Where do I know her from?” He asked finally.

 “She… ah, flipped you off at the club.” I held back a smirk, watching the way his eyes narrowed.

 “I knew it. She has some nerve.” The growl in his throat was unmistakable, “And the way she spoke to you so boldly…” He didn’t like it.

 But I could guarantee he’d like what I was about to say even less.

 “Dr Griffin saved your life.”

 He shifted his gaze to mine, “What?”

 “Twice.”

 I knew he was trying to process this information, so I waited until he’d tortured himself over it long enough before I explained briefly the lengths she had gone to for him. For me. Whether she knew she was doing it for me or not was another matter, but the fact was that she had gone above and beyond. I never forgot a favour.

 “…You will treat her with respect.” I left no opening for debate, “Do you understand me?”

 He tilted his head forwards.

 “You owe her nothing. She wants you to know that.” I continued, resting one leg over the other as my fingertips curled lightly against my thigh, “But you will respect her because I asked you to.”

 Gustus nodded once more, “You… care about her.” He said, with some difficulty.

 I’d never been able to evade his perceptions, but that didn’t mean I had to confirm or deny his suspicions.

 “Lexa…” He used my name rarely – more out of deference than anything else – but I knew he was concerned, “Be careful. Please. If Nia did this to me… there’s no telling what she’d be capable of.”

 “Caring is a little bit out of my depth, Gustus. You know that. All I’m saying is that she deserves respect.” I rose to my feet, sensing the time frame to see Clarke again was quickly narrowing, “The nurse is here to check up on you, so I’ll be back soon.”

 I caught her, right before she was about to exit the ward.

 Halting in her tracks and glancing over her shoulder upon hearing her name, Clarke let her eyes rest on mine, “Can’t keep away from me, can you?” She smirked, moving her body to face me, the white lab jacket hanging to her mid-thighs.

 It shouldn’t have turned me on.

 But it did.

 Deeply.

 “I’ll be out of your hair by tomorrow it seems.” I returned, my feet naturally drawing a step closer.

 She adjusted the stethoscope around her neck and tilted her head to one side, “Mm, I guess I got lucky.”

 “Do you want to get lucky again?” I murmured, my eyes following her hand as it moved to sit on her hip.

 “Do you have something in mind?”

 She always played the game; teased me right until the end.

 Nothing worked me up more.

 “I always have something in mind for you, Clarke.”

 Her breath faltered, but she didn’t break face.

 “When do you finish?” I asked.

 Her smirk widened. She didn’t need to make a pun for me to know exactly what she was thinking.

 I supposed I’d set myself up for that one.

 “My shift ends at 4. But Octavia has friends coming over.” She continued, her eyes grazing me up and down briefly.

 “Be ready for 7. I’ll pick you up.”

 Something about my words seemed to amuse her, because she quirked an eyebrow, her wicked smile returning to her lips, “I love it when you tell me what to do.” She left me with one final (yet fleeting) stare, disappearing from the ward.

 

.::. _C_ .::.

 

 “Ooh, somebody looks hot. Are you going out?”

 I shrugged in Octavia’s general direction, crossing my legs on the sofa as I sipped at my coffee. I felt I’d probably need the caffeine boost after the prolonged day I’d had.

 Note to self: when one’s boss says one’s shift at the hospital finishes at 4, one should be prepared to leave at 5. At the earliest.

 I’d gotten lucky and managed to escape the doors by 5:17pm.

 “Because if you are going out…” Octavia continued, “…Then I’ll give you some tips on how to look as hot as me.”

 I glanced at her over my mug, raising an eyebrow, “Your hilarity never ceases to amaze, O.”

 She smirked at me as she set out an array of alcoholic beverages on the coffee table, “So, is it the mysterious club-owner who’s stealing you away?”

 “More like rescuing me.” I scoffed, “Isn’t Raven coming over?”

 Octavia shrugged, “Yeah, she said she might drop by…”

 I shuddered visibly, “Then my absence is convenient.”

 “Look…” She sighed, “Her and Finn were done a long time ago. I don’t think she holds anything against you for sleeping with him. It’s not like you knew her, or even knew she existed at the time.”

 Tilting my head back, I rolled my eyes, “Right. Like she wouldn’t pour me a shot of arsenic and try to pass it off as Vodka.”

 “Well, if she was serious about it, she’d be better off using a grey, yellow or black liqueur. Arsenic is usually one of those colours. Vodka is not.”

 I debated tossing the cushion at her head, “Nerd.” I muttered, resigning myself to continue drinking coffee instead.

 “God, it would be so easy to kill you.” She laughed, “But then again… your scary-ass girlfriend would probably come after me with her hounds.”

 “Christ… She’s not my girlfriend. That being said, I do give her some damn good orgasms, so I can’t guarantee she wouldn’t set hounds on you…”

 “You’re sickening. But, she does seem the sort to enjoy a bloodbath.”

 “Anyway, grey and black are shades, not colours.” I informed her, childishly, “So, I win.”

 My phone vibrated in my lap and I glanced down.

 Lexa’s text was promptly punctual.

 I was not.

 “Shit. She’s here.” I sat up and downed my coffee, going to grab my heels from the shoe rack.

 “You should have invited her in. Let her meet Raven. I’m sure they’d have plenty to talk about. No, wait. Damn, I should have invited Niylah. Made it even better!”

 I silenced her with a withering glare as I fastened my heels, “Don’t trash my apartment, please. Or at least make sure you get rid of all the evidence before I come home. Also, stop trying to be funny. It makes me feel ill.”

 Octavia offered me an angelic smile, “I’ll make sure we’re all passed out in your bed in our own sick.”

 “I’ll shag Lexa in your bed. And Niylah.” I returned.

 “You’re vile.” Octavia chastised, fondly.

 “You love me for it.” I grinned, landing a brief kiss on her cheek, “Have fun.”

 “I’ll make sure to pass all of your hugs and kisses onto Raven for you.”

 “What did I _just_ say about trying to be funny?” I rolled my eyes again before closing the door behind me, instantly regretting the coffee the second I stepped outside. I should have remembered that my austere stranger was enough to interfere with my cardiovascular system without the aid of caffeine.

 She was standing by the passenger’s side of the car, leaning against the open door. Looking right as rain. Hot as hell.

 Her burnished hair was pulled around one side of her neck (a style that quickly settled well with me), her dark attire clinging subtly to her gentle curves. My gaze reverted back to her neck and I wanted nothing more than to bruise it with a kiss.

 She didn’t need to say anything to let me know she liked how I looked.

 Her eyes said it all. Beneath the steeliness of her stare, they burned.

“Hello, Clarke.”

 Always so goddamn formal. Yet, never pretentious. Despite how quickly she turned in the bedroom, she always maintained her class, even when stripping away mine.

 Transitioning between conversing with Octavia to Lexa was such a vast contrast, I’d forgotten myself for a moment.

 I realised it the second I brushed her cheek with my lips.

 Lexa stilled against me for a moment, and I swore I could feel her skin heat beneath my kiss.

 It wasn’t the action that caught us both off-guard. My lips had kissed far more intimate parts of her, but this was a greeting.

 Not sex.

 I’d done it now, so I wasn’t going to back out.

 “Hello…” I murmured into her ear, my hand sliding to her hip, deciding to go all out with it.

 Her fingers hesitantly brushed over mine for the shortest moment before I pulled away, “Ready?” I asked, forcing my heart to behave.

 She nodded, jutting out her jaw just a little – the way she always did when she was attempting to keep her face void of any expression. How I longed to watch it slacken.

 I slid into the car and leaned back into the leather as Lexa joined my side, her hands curling around the wheel.

 I silently wondered where she’d be taking me, a thought that hadn’t crossed my mind up until now.

 I didn’t ask, and she didn’t tell.

 I was grateful for the quiet sound of the radio to keep my mind focused on something other than how it had felt to greet her the way I had, “Oh, I love this song…” I commented, aware of the sidelong glance Lexa sent me.

 “I don’t normally have the radio on…” She told me, reaching forwards to turn the volume up, purely for my benefit.

 For some reason, I wasn’t surprised, “Do you listen to music at all?”

 She shrugged a shoulder, “Not actively, really. At least not anymore. Spending all my time in booming clubs makes me appreciate silence.”

 “This is different to club music though…”

 She said nothing, her ears training on the sound.

 I was busy singing along to myself, almost inaudibly, drumming my fingertips lightly on my thigh.

 “What song is it?” She asked, eventually.

 “Baby Came Home.”

 

  _Thinking about her._

_She’s gone all the time._

_I think if you found her_

_That even you would know she’s mine._

 “You like it?” I asked, looking over to her.

 

  _That girl is mine, she’s mine._

 Lexa slowed at the red light as the music faded, “It’s not bad.” She concluded.

 “Oh, come on.” I laughed as her eyes shifted to mine, “Surely there’s some type of music you like. No, wait… let me guess… You’re into Mozart. No… Beethoven.”

 She simply arched an eyebrow, “Actually, I’m not opposed to classical music. Although, Beethoven is probably more considered to be a part of the romantic period rather than the classical.” She added, more to herself than to me, “Personally, I prefer Debussy.”

 “What, like Clair de Lune?”

 Lexa seemed mildly impressed I could name a piece, “Yes. Except I prefer Arabesque.”

 I laughed softly, “Right.”

 She was silent for a moment as she turned the corner, hitting the highway, “Nowadays, I like calming music.”

 “Yeah?” I let my eyes graze over her profile, “You know, you strike me as the kind to be some secret lover of metal or heavy rock, or something. Like with your smoky eyes and sexy black lace.”

 …And now I was thinking about her in sexy black lace.

 Lexa eased her foot down, accelerating hard.

 She wouldn’t admit it, but I knew somewhere in there was a highly competitive driver… and a capable one at that. Then again, I could imagine her admitting it without shame. She owned just about everything she did, so the roads would be no different to her. In fact, they were probably her playground.

 And I wouldn’t admit it either, but the image of it was somewhat appealing. Okay… _incredibly_ appealing.

 “That used to be my scene, yes.” She remarked, nonchalantly.

 “Really?” I couldn’t help but giggle to myself, “Lexa the hard-core rocker… commander of the mosh-pit.”

 “Commander?” She repeated as she switched gear, breezing into the next lane to overtake the Mercedes in front, “…Of the mosh-pit?” She didn’t smile, but I knew she was amused.

 “God, yes.”

 “You like that thought? Me commanding a crowd of unruly rebels?”

 “In black lace.” I added, catching sight of her smile. It was small. But it was there.

 “The first club I opened was a rock bar.”

 I raised my eyebrows, “Really? Is it still going?”

 “Yes.” She pointed to the glove compartment in front of me, “I probably have some old CDs in there. But, I haven’t touched them in a long time.”

 “CDs.” I repeated, “People still buy those?”

 She didn’t look at me, but I could see her eyebrow twitch in response to my comment, “Some people still appreciate having hard copies of their purchases.”

 In curiosity, I opened it up and sifted through the cases, “Let’s see, then. Ah, here we go. 50 Classical Favourites… Songs: Ohia… The Black Keys… and a tonne of other depressing artists…”

 She scoffed quietly, “Don’t knock them until you try them, Dr Griffin.”

  _Fine_.

 I raised an eyebrow and slid the first CD I got my hands on into the player.

 The music began softly, and I leaned backwards against the headrest.

 

_So if I stand in front of a speeding car_

_Would you tell me who you are, what you like?_

_What's on your mind, if I'd get it right?_

_How I love that no one knows_

_And these secrets all that we've got so far_

_The demons in the dark, lie again_

_Play pretends like it never ends_

_This way no one has to know_

 

 “Jesus, just as depressing as I thought.” I teased, examining the back of the case.

_Even the half smile would have slowed down the time_

_If I could call you half mine_

_Maybe this is the safest way to go_

 

 I couldn’t help but listen to the lyrics, “So… what do you look for in music?”

 She shrugged, just slightly, “The way it makes me feel. It could be the lyrics… the sound… the voice.”

 I could appreciate that. Music had ways of reaching out when nothing else could.

 She had a deeper soul than I had originally anticipated… and I hated the fact I liked it.

 My eyes rested on Lexa’s lips as her smile faded.

 “It shouldn’t be this busy…” She slowed as we started to hit traffic.

 I caught sight of the reason before she did, “Lexa, look…”

 A beat up car on the side of the road claimed her attention. The crowd of people surrounding a bleeding woman on the ground claimed mine.

 A couple of people were shouting for help. For an ambulance. For something… or someone.

 “Shit.” I muttered, “Pull over.”

 Lexa looked over to me but did so anyway, “What is it?”

 “Legal etiquette. I have to help. If I ignore this, I’m technically breaking the law.”

 Of course, I often picked and chose which laws to break and which ones not to. But, this was different. This was somebody’s life.

 “What are you going to do?” She asked.

 “Just assess the situation.”

 “Clarke…” She began quietly, but I sent her a look. She knew she couldn’t persuade me out of this one. “Just… be careful. You don’t know if it’s safe.”

“Look at you being all worried for my safety.” I opened the car door and headed around to the side of the road, “Hey, can I help? Is everything okay?” I asked, keeping my tone calm as I addressed the man who appeared to be in the most panic.

 “She had a fit! At the wheel… Wait… she’s seizing again! Fuck.” He broke away from me and flung his arms out in the air, “Put something between her teeth and hold her down! Get her on her side!”

  _Oh, Christ. He’s one of those._

 “No.” I intervened, already taking off my jacket, “Don’t touch her.” I walked towards the woman, but the man quickly rounded on me, his phone clenched in his hand.

 “My mother used to have fits! I know what I’m doing.”

 “All due respect, Sir, you don’t.” I replied, kneeling down and placing the jacket under her head, “Can somebody get me another coat or something, please?”

 “Who the fuck are you?” He growled, “Who do you think you are?”

 I ignored him as I placed another coat under her head, surveying the head wound.

 “I have up to date epilepsy training.” I informed him. I hated giving away anything about my correct occupation. It put me in a precarious position with the law in case something went wrong. I couldn’t afford to be sued, “Have you phoned an ambulance?”

 “What? I couldn’t get through…” He was shooting knives in my general direction, but I was used to this sort of aggression, so I remained unfazed.

 “Okay, try again. Tell them our exact location. She has a head wound and potential broken bones. Nobody touch her. You’ll only cause more damage to her, or yourself.”

 I leaned back on my heels, “Does anybody know this lady?” I asked.

 One pale-faced man was kneeling beside her, clutching his side, “She’s my girlfriend.”

 “Okay, how long to do the fits normally last?” I asked.

 He shook his head, “I don’t know. I didn’t know she had epilepsy. This is the first time it’s happened.”

 That figured. I doubted she’d have been allowed to drive otherwise. I also doubted that it was epilepsy. She had some track marks on her forearms – it was more likely drug-related.

 The man returned just as the lady ceased fitting, “The ambulance are on their way.”

 I nodded, carefully rolling her on her side, supporting her back with my shin while I checked her pulse, “Okay. She’s just sleeping. I need a blanket and a first-aid kit. Does anybody have one in their car?”

 Nobody moved.

 I inwardly cursed.

 “Anybody?”

 Lexa knelt beside me, draping a foil blanket over her body, before she opened up a first-aid kit for me.

 I met her gaze briefly, “Thank you.” I murmured, taking out a dressing and a bandage to cover the wound, checking her breathing as I did so. I couldn’t decide whether I was shocked that Lexa had a first-aid kit handy, or not. Then again, she was prepared for everything. All the goddamn time.

 “How are you?” I asked the boyfriend, but he just shrugged.

 “I’m okay. Just my side.”

 I nodded, “Let the medics check you over when they arrive anyway, okay?”

 “Are you… a nurse or something?”

 I sighed, choosing to keep silent, busying myself with assessing the unconscious woman for something to do.

 All I could do now was to wait, and to keep monitoring her physical state, “You can return to your cars now. The paramedics will need space when they arrive.” I hated it when people lingered. It was unnecessary.

 I could hear the sirens as the ambulance pulled up behind us.

 “Hello, my name is Jackson. I’m here to help. Can you tell me what happened?” I could hear his softly-spoken tone beside me before it registered with either of us who the other was, “Oh, Dr Griffin. Hey.”

 His partner was busy laying out the stretcher on the ground, speaking to the boyfriend.

 “Hey, Jackson.” I smiled, explaining to him briefly what had happened.

 I suddenly recognised his partner and I raised my eyebrows, “You’re on call with Marcus? Since when did he start sticking his neck out on the roads?”

 “Since he decided to try and get back into your mother’s good books.”

 “Is his new haircut also related to getting back into my mother’s good books?”

 Jackson avoided saying anything further, but just delivered me a knowing look as Marcus approached, “Thank you, Doctor.”

 I nodded, “Sure. You’re okay to take it from here?” I asked.

 “We’ve got it. Thanks. Enjoy the rest of your evening.”

 I rose to my feet and turned to face Lexa. Her expression was difficult to decipher, as usual, “Hey, are you okay?” I asked, still in life-saving mode.

 She inclined her head, “You’re the one with blood on your dress…”

 I shrugged, cursing the fact I probably looked a great deal worse than I had half an hour ago, “Yeah… It happens.”

 “Do you want me to take you home?” She asked, but I caught her hand and pulled her back to the car.

 “God, no. I just have an excuse for you to get me out of my clothes faster.”

 The traffic began to filter away, and it was just as well. My comment was taken seriously. _Very_ seriously.

 Lexa stepped down on the pedal as we continued down the highway, “It’s odd.” She murmured after a few minutes.

 “What is?” I asked, cleaning my hands with a sterile wipe from the first-aid kit.

 “Just how rapidly you become this… this person who so easily takes control over chaos.”

 … Coming from somebody who took control over chaos as though it was second nature, I supposed I ought to have taken it as a compliment.

 “You think?” I asked, closing the box and placing it on the backseat, “It doesn’t feel like that to me…”

 Lexa pulled onto the slip-road and eased off the gas, “What do you mean?”

 I thought about the times I felt like I was the cause of chaos. It happened far more often than it should have. Mostly, I kept a lid on it, but the sensation of losing control always found a way to creep up on me.

 I just shrugged, “Nothing really.”

 She said nothing, choosing not to pry.

 “I feel like you’re taking me out here to kill me.” I laughed softly, glancing at the vast landscape of green beneath the darkening twilight.

 “Necrophilia just happens to be my biggest fetish.” She returned, pulling up outside a prestigious house locked behind electronic gates.

 “Well, I mean, if dying is what it takes to get me laid, then…” I trailed away, taking in the sight of her home in awe.

  _Well, shit_. This made my apartment look like a rat-hole in comparison.

 “I like living away from the city.” She told me as the gates opened for her and closed once she’d eased into the drive.

 I could understand that. I followed her to the front door, watching as she easily unlocked it and held it open for me.

 I couldn’t even begin to describe the interior of the house without doing it injustice.

 The scent was fresh, almost like pine, yet carrying a trace of the musky and sweet edge I was accustomed to smelling on Lexa’s skin.

 It was open, sporting intricate wood designs of deep mahogany.

 I half expected to stumble across a suit of armour in the hallway or something.

 “I’d offer to take your coat, but…” Lexa began, biting her lip.

 “Bollocks.” I muttered, ineloquently, “I left it back on the highway…”

 “You want us to go back and get it?”

 I shrugged, “No. It’s an old one of Octavia’s. I doubt she’ll miss it.”

 Besides, I’d already wasted enough time. My body was reminding me insistently that Lexa had been fully clothed for far too long.

 I began to unfasten my heels, leaving them by the door and following her through into a large, charcoal grey kitchen.

 A collection of candles sat beside the fridge and she automatically lit them, before opening up the door, “Something tells me you may need this…” She revealed a bottle of wine and shut the fridge.

 “Then that something has never been more correct…” I replied, resting my fingers on the counter as she elegantly poured out two drinks, sliding one into my hand.

 “I’m sorry about taking out a chunk of your evening.” I murmured, lifting the glass to my lips.

 Lexa shook her head, “Helping people is what you do. It’s who you are.” Her eyes drifted to mine, “You should never apologise for that.”

  _And making me feel like I’m suffocated by my own skin is who you are._

 I took a small step forwards, watching her take a prolonged drink of her wine, “And what about you, Lexa?” I asked, “I’m curious to know who _you_ are.”

 My remark seemed to disarm her and she allowed me a glimpse of expression, her lips parting in supressed surprise.

 That was my cue.

 I rested a hand on her hip, pushing her so she was backed against the counter, “There’s more to you than you let on, Commander of the mosh-pit.” I ribbed.

 She seemed to lack the capability to respond, and so I continued, placing my glass by her elbow and leaning forwards, my body pressing the distance between us, “But, you can’t hide from me forever. I will find out every little secret. When I want something, I always get it.”

 I trailed my fingers over her stomach, lightly teasing my way beneath the fabric of her top, fully aware I had her under my thumb.

 “Clarke…” She breathed tacitly, “I don’t want to be teased.”

 I raised an eyebrow, “No?” I asked, grazing my nails gently over her skin.

 She shook her head minimally, her eyes wide.

 But, I couldn’t help myself.

 I dug my fingernails a little harder into the firmness of her stomach, relishing the breathy sound that left her open mouth.

 “You don’t?”

 Her palms rested over my hips, pulling them into hers, “No.” She growled, her hand sliding up along my spine, taking a fistful of my hair, “I don’t.”

 I gasped as she tugged my head backwards, lowering her lips to my neck and biting down on the exposed skin.

“Then tell me…” I managed, my hand curling hard around her waist, “What do you want… Commander?”

 She drew her head back, running her tongue smoothly over her lips. She wasn’t going to exalt me with a response. I knew that.

 I could see my new-founded term for her had a greater impact than I’d expected, and the more I looked at her, the more fitting it was.

 She was in charge of everything and everyone.

 Even me, at times.

 She pushed me backwards, and I hadn’t realised how far we’d moved until I felt my back hit the wall. We were no longer in the kitchen, but at the base of the stairs. Lexa’s hand had taken mine and constrained it against the plaster above my head, “You know what I want, Clarke.” Her voice was abstractly tame considering I knew how pushed she was to get her way.

 “Then tell me.” I half-begged, the vulnerability of my position leaving me open and utterly at her disposal.

 Dragging her hand down my wrist, keeping my arm pinned to the wall, she edged her lips closer to mine, “Only if you promise not to tease me.”

 She was close. So fucking close. Her offer left my mind and body reeling. And it scared me. Terrified me. This was Lexa – guarded, intense, and overpowering. Indisputable.

 Maybe there was some deeper underlying reason behind why she was so adamant about this. I couldn’t work out what it was; I toyed with the idea that perhaps she had found something else out about Gustus’ attack. Perhaps she felt she was being threatened by too many forces to handle being threatened by me.

 Maybe she needed control.

 Maybe I should have given it to her.

 I nodded slowly, holding her eyes, “I promise.”

 Lowering my hand, she laced her fingers into mine and pulled me away from the wall, leading me up the staircase.

 The grand designs continued throughout the layout of her house and no doubt touched her bedroom too. She pushed open the door and led me inside, closing it behind us.

 I was surprised she trusted me enough to see the inside of her room. Bedrooms were private places. They could reveal a lot about a person.

 Lexa’s bedroom was as classy as expected; dark walls and darker drapes. The carpet was plush beneath my toes as I walked towards the huge bed with her. Her entire house was immaculate. Even the pile of books on her desk were organised neatly beside a pair of folded reading glasses. I noticed some novels, and some non-fictional titles. The thought of Lexa burying her nose into a fiction book was somewhat peculiar… yet oddly pleasing. And the glasses?

 I would _pay_ to see her wear them.

 She switched on the lamp by her bed and pulled me towards the mattress. I fell onto the thick blanket beside her, meeting her gaze, my heart thudding louder than it should have been.

  _Tell me what you want._

 The dim light fell on her skin as folded her hands in her lap, mine still clasped in hers.

 “I’m not like other people, Clarke. I know that. I find it hard to let people get to know me.”

  My chest tightened at her words. At the vulnerability. And, for some unexplainable reason, she left me feeling light-headed. Dizzy.

 No wonder she hadn’t wanted me to tease her.

 Between my mockery and taunts, she’d recognised my subconscious truth.

 I did want to know her.

 Yet, something told me, it would be a far more difficult task than it would be with somebody like Niylah. I could read her without sparing her a glance.

 With Lexa, I couldn’t.

 I had barely scraped the surface.

 I nodded, noticing the liability in her features.

 Whatever this had started out to be, by one path or another, we’d been through more than what either of us had signed up for.

“But, I don’t… want to hide from you, Clarke. I _want_ you to know me.”

 Instead of speaking, I moved my free hand to her cheek, running my thumb over her jaw. Her eyes flickered lightly, and I leaned forwards, pressing my lips to hers.

 It felt different.

 Another kind of heat.

 Like a slow burn.

 But, it left me raw.

 Deliciously raw.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clarke finds herself looking more deeply into what she wants - especially with Lexa. The austere club-owner begins to question whether she is doing the right thing by pursuing Clarke. The two of them begin to face their inner demons when something drastically unexpected occurs in Lexa's home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I despise writing summaries. I also apologise that this chapter isn't a particularly long one. Thank you for your kind words and critique. It really fuels my motivation to continue writing. I don't want to discuss too much in this note as I don't want to spoil the plot - so, read on!

.::. _C_ .::.

 

 So… I’d just had what was probably the best slow sex of my entire life with the most devastatingly attractive person I’d ever encountered. Outwardly, this may not have seemed like a problem. Which begged the question: why was it that I was now clutching onto the sides of her en-suite bathroom sink, drastically overthinking _everything_?

 Nothing could’ve prepared me for this evening. No amount of Octavia pep-talks (which usually saw me through any event), no amount of drugs or alcohol… no amount of… well, basically anything. I was hyper aware that Lexa was on the other side of the door, likely still laying naked in the large comforts of her bed. And that made matters even worse.

 Once we’d eventually exhausted ourselves – something that took Lexa far longer than it did me due to her inhuman stamina – she’d fallen silent.

 Brooding.

 Which wasn’t weird for her. Not at all. But, the fact was she’d gone from malleable and exposed to quiet and closed off within the space of time that we’d been tangled tightly together. Her words ran repeatedly through my head. She wanted me to know her. Lexa, the greatly omnipotent goddess herself. Why did that now feel like the world’s biggest riddle?

 How was it possible for one person to be so goddamn cryptic _and_ equally blatant all at the same time? How did somebody achieve that complexity? And how could somebody ever possibly solve it?

 God, I wanted her. I wanted her so much that it ached. Even just the thought of her pushed my body and my mind to its limits. But, I hadn’t considered that this meant more to her than just sex. I’d tried to convince myself she just got off on the whole process of wooing somebody with her flash cars, fancy home and oozing confidence. I knew that was likely a load of bollocks. She was used to people crawling all over her. So, when I hadn’t displayed that same persona she was used to people showing, I wondered if I’d turned into a game for her.

 At least, that’s what I’d thought.

 I didn’t consider myself anything spectacular. Sure, I knew how to flirt – how to get people to want me. But, getting people to stay with me? Getting people to want more than just what was between my legs? That wasn’t such a strong suit of mine. And most of the time, that way of thinking made me behave like a prick. I’d started out with the intention of keeping Lexa at a distance; using her to fulfil my own animalistic desires. Because I’d told myself that’s all I was to her.

 The fact I was overthinking this entire thing just made me more pissed off with myself. She was probably blissfully unaware of the turmoil she’d created in my head, laying there in all her bare elegance.

 Taking a grounding breath, I clicked my neck lightly and pushed back from the sink. Once I’d opened the door, I met her hooded stare – she was still somewhere in the depths of deep thought. But, the want, the _need_ , was still lurking beneath the surface of her expression.

 It left me feeling more open than ever.

 But, before I could let myself, truly let myself open up to the possibility that I could have more with Lexa, we needed to talk.

 And how the fuck was I going to manage that with her staring at me the way she was?

 With difficulty.

 Profound difficulty.

 

.::. _L_.::.

 

 I knew it was a mistake to pursue her to the lengths that I did. The knowledge that one simple slip up could cost Clarke her safety didn’t settle well with me. She’d strutted her sexy ass into my life at a critical point – critical on the level where those who associated themselves with me could well end up becoming collateral damage. Or, even worse, targets. Gustus was testimony of that himself.

 Why, then, did I insist on playing this dangerous game with her?

 Was I being selfish?

 Of course I was.

 Usually, that was something I had no qualm with. I’d gotten to where I was now by being selfish. But, Clarke was rapidly becoming an inconveniently prominent presence in my life, and she had no idea the danger I could be putting her in just to satiate my primal cravings.

 Part of me knew she would reject my attempts to warn her about the severity of the situation, and part of me didn’t want to tell her in case she listened. I’d meant what I’d said about wanting her to get to know me.

 I just wasn’t sure that saying it was the smartest thing to do.

 My gaze followed her body unyieldingly as she stepped out of my en-suite bathroom, clad only in her lace knickers. The rest of her was deliciously on display, the rouge pinch to her cheeks reminding me of the exertion we’d experienced prior. She pushed open the bedroom window to allow for some circulation of cool air and I could still feel the tender throb between my legs as she lowered herself onto me afterwards, her fingers gently pushing through my hair. My thighs tensed at the way her unoccupied hand dragged over my hipbone, “I suppose I should go?”

 I didn’t think she’d intended the statement as a question, but that’s how it came out.

 “Should you?” I murmured, my hands sliding to rest on her rear.

 Then, she stopped, and pulled back to look at me intently, drawing her lower lip between her teeth. This action alone reignited the burning sensation beneath my skin.

 “Lexa…” She began, her eyebrows creasing slightly, “The stuff you said… about you wanting me to know you…” She chose her next words carefully – something which I assumed took a great deal of effort for Clarke, “…What did you mean by that? Were you just referring to sex, or…?”

 I hadn’t expected the quiet vulnerability behind the startling blue of her eyes and it left me feeling unprepared. It was the first time I’d seen her consider herself before speaking and I knew that, in turn, I was required to answer honestly.

 I found my throat tightening the longer I looked at her, “Clarke, I–”

_Click_.

 Clarke didn’t seem to have registered the sound – but I supposed I didn’t expect her to. It was a sound I was accustomed to hearing every time I locked and unlocked my back door. She had noticed my head switching to focus elsewhere and wasted no time in calling me out on it.

 “What is it?” She asked, her attention flitting between me and the bedroom door.

 Gently, I eased out from beneath her and pulled on my underwear, pressing one finger to my lips, “Stay here.”

 Without another word, I slipped out of the room and trod quietly down the stairs to seek out the source of the sound. Ordinarily, a click might not bother me – but I could feel that something was amiss. So, either I was hallucinating, or somebody had just picked my lock.

 Through the darkness of the kitchen, I could see the back door being carefully eased into its frame. A silhouette moved towards me. Instinctively, I held out an arm and felt the crook of my elbow collide with the intruder’s windpipe. Gasping, he fell to the floor, already making a fruitless attempt to pick himself up. With one quick sweep of my leg, I kicked his shoulder, watching him collapse onto his back. I circled him, my eyes narrowing as they adjusted to the darkness; he’d raised a hand in the hopes of striking me, but I was ready. I disarmed him, pushing my fingertips hard into the soft tissue of his thumb joint, right where his pressure point was located, and swung one foot over to rest on his throat, “Don’t move.”

 “Or what?” He rasped, wriggling beneath my cage.

 “I’ll crush your neck.” It wasn’t a threat – it was more of a promise. But, the gentleman currently at my disposal still felt he had something to prove.

 “Try it, bitch.”

 Well, since he’d asked so politely…

 I applied weight harshly onto my left leg, my heel pushing his gullet until it creaked. Despite his non-verbal protests, I didn’t relent. His eyes began to bulge in their sockets as his arm flailed wildly towards my leg. So, I pushed harder.

 He eventually grasped the concept that he needed to lay still, or at least he lacked the oxygen to continue thrashing about beneath my foot, and lowered his arm to the floor.

 “I presume Nia sent you?” I lifted my leg just enough for him to start spluttering violently, his palm slapping against the laminate flooring.

 Between coughs, the intruder shook his head, “I don’t – work – for that – fucking – snake.”

 I paused, my toes curling around the ridges of his neck, “So, to whom do I owe the pleasure?”

 That was when he spat at me. Somehow, he’d mustered up the strength.

 His strength would’ve been better directed elsewhere – spitting at me was a mistake.

 I could see I wasn’t going to get anywhere at present, so I prepared to deliver a powerful kick to the side of his head that would certainly render him unconscious. Perhaps he would be more willing to talk later – after I’d bound his limbs, of course.

 In that moment, I heard a shriek from upstairs. I abandoned all intentions and, without hesitating, I ran, taking the stairs three at a time. Kicking open my bedroom door, I found Clarke lying motionless on the floor. Beside her, a man spat blood from his mouth onto her back, “Oh, sorry about the mess.” He smirked.

 A smirk which I broke. Swiftly.

 Stumbling backwards and clutching his jaw, the second man cursed heavily at me. I left him no time to react as I swept towards him, stealing the blade he clutched in his blood-stained knuckles. Usually, I had no issue responding to threat with clean precision, but usually, I wasn’t standing beside Clarke Griffin. The rage surged heatedly through my muscles, carrying my hand effortlessly towards his chest. Within moments, the attacker buckled at his knees, dropping to the floor with a resounding thud. I stared at the knife as it protruded from his side, slowly watching the light drain from his eyes.

 I barely even registered the shuffle of Clarke’s body beside my feet. I barely even registered her voice.

 She was trying to reach me somehow. But, all I could think about was what could have happened. To her.

 

.::. _C_.::.

 

  “What did you do?” The words left my lips and I could just about manage to hear myself speak them above the pounding in my head.

 Lexa didn’t answer me. She was fixated on the crumpled heap on the floor, a look in her eyes I had never seen before.

 For the first time, I found myself truly afraid of her. It wasn’t the fact that she had spatters of blood on her bare feet and fingertips. It wasn’t even the fact that she was utterly stationery. It was the cold, dead emptiness that settled a natural film over her stare. She looked clinically at the knife sticking awkwardly out of the man’s ribs, waiting it seemed for him to finally pass.

 It scared me because I could see now that this was a part of who she was – and she was well acquainted with it. She’d done this before, and judging by her face so void of expression, she would do it again.

 “Lexa?” I breathed, picking myself up the best that I could.

 It scared me because I didn’t know if I could reach her – or even if she would recognise that I was still there.

 “Please.” I was begging. Softly. But, begging all the same. My hand impulsively brushed against hers, despite the adrenaline in my body screaming at me to run.

 Our skin grazed. Her breath caught in her throat as though she was slowly beginning to recall where she was.

 “You need to leave.” She said finally, striding over the body and gathering my clothes in her hands.

 “What? Lexa, talk to me.”

 “I said _leave_.” She repeated, her eyes igniting suddenly.

 Was she serious?

 I felt the anger override the ache in my head and I moved towards her, “Excuse me?”

 “You shouldn’t be here. Seeing this.” She could hardly bring herself to look at me.

 “I think we can both agree that I’ve seen enough mortal injuries in my time.” I quipped, making a quick assessment of the man’s state.

 “Maybe so. But, you’ve not seen death by _my_ hand, Clarke.” She whispered.

 I spared her a sideways glance, “Well, lucky for you, he’s not dead.”

 Retrospectively, this wasn’t the right thing to say.

 “Move.” She turned to me, casting my clothes on the bed and clenching her fist.

 “What? No. Lexa, we need to phone an ambulance.”

 I saw it then. The defiance. The determination to finish what she’d started.

 The problem with that was I couldn’t allow her to. My mission was to preserve life – not take it away. She knew that.

 “I said move.”

 “What, so you can kill him?” I wasn’t going to budge.

 “Clarke, he could’ve killed you. Do you understand that I _cannot_ let that happen?”

 “And I can’t let a man die if there’s a small chance he could be saved.”

 “Even a man who tried to kill you?” She asked, the steeliness of her stare _almost_ making me tremble.

 I rooted myself and set my jaw, “Even a man who tried to kill me. What purpose would it serve? Whoever sent him knew it might come to this. In fact, they probably expected it to. His life is expendable to them – but not to us. If we kept him alive, we could get some answers. We don’t have to stoop to their level. They probably have more where he comes from anyway.”

 I could see my words slowly taking effect as Lexa reluctantly analysed the context. I couldn’t convince her with moral standing, clearly, so I’d changed my tact.

 “Besides, you could end up behind bars. How would you expect to run a business then?”

 “Prison?” The idea seemed ridiculous to Lexa, for one reason or another, “Clarke, that’s never happened before and it’s not likely to happen in the future.”

 I bypassed the underlying suggestion of her words, ignoring the implication that she’d faced these scenarios before.

 “Look, I’m phoning an ambulance.” I reached for my phone on the bed only to find Lexa’s hand wrapping around my wrist.

 “No.” She pushed my arm back to my side with natural ease.

 “Lexa, I–”

 “–Tell me, Clarke, do you really think this man is worth saving?” She demanded.

 “No, Lexa. But, you are.”

 A hush fell on her lips as she finally rested her gaze on mine.

 “If you kill him, there’s no telling what could happen to you. I can’t let that happen.”

 She kept her silence for a few moments before she finally expelled a mellow murmur, “You mean that?”

 I nodded, fiercely, “Of course. But, we don’t have much time. If any.”

 Lexa deliberated with herself for a handful of seconds before she inclined her head, subtly, “I can’t call an ambulance. Too many questions and far too much paperwork. I’ll have somebody pick him up and drop him off at the ER.”

 She leaned over to take her phone from the desk, tapping away at her screen before she dropped it back on the bed. The fact that Lexa was next to naked hadn’t escaped my notice, and I presumed that my current lack of clothing hadn’t escaped hers either, except it was only presently when this registered as a little peculiar. I’d always feared getting attacked by an axe murderer whilst I was in the shower because I would have to fight him naked – and nobody really wanted that. However, when it came down to it, wearing clothes was the furthest thing from my mind. Lexa probably managed to execute her naked defences far more gracefully than I could, what with her inked skin and toned muscles. I probably just looked stupid waving Lexa’s bedside lamp around like an unrefined blonde bimbo. I supposed it was just a stroke of luck that I’d actually managed to clock him on the mouth with it.

 “Was there somebody else?” I asked, “Downstairs, I mean?”

 Lexa closed her eyes, tentatively, as if she’d only just remembered the other party, “Yes.”

 “Is he still there?”

 She didn’t answer, but turned on her heel and disappeared from the bedroom, leaving behind her the musky scent of her skin. I looked over at the man knowing there was no use me moving him or tending to his wound. The knife was plugging up the hole in between his ribs and right now, that was the safest place for it to be. I could feel a shiver creep its way down the nape of my neck and I leaned heavily back onto the bed, the impact of the last hour suddenly striking me hard in the chest.

 I knew there was more to Lexa than simply being an ‘austere club-owner’. But, I hadn’t really, _truly_ entertained the extent of her influence in the city until now. I laughed bitterly, hysterically, to myself. Just my fucking luck, really. It was just like me to end up getting tangled up in the antics of a goddamn mob-boss. I could imagine the surge of delight Bellamy would have at my situation. He’d probably start calling me something like ‘Princess Mob-Wife’. The thought made my stomach churn.  

 The chill crawling over my forearms prompted me to debate closing the window – but, instead, I just stared at the way the curtains rippled in the breeze. I was a fucking idiot. I should’ve never opened it in the first place. Then there wouldn’t be a half-dead guy laying on Lexa’s plush carpet at my feet. Then she wouldn’t be so insistent that I leave. I wasn’t sure when Lexa returned back to the bedroom, but she didn’t arrive alone. Two burly men flanked her and leaned down to fling the attacker onto a makeshift stretcher.

 Both men held striking resemblances to Gustus – heavy tattoos, lengthy hair, and muscles upon muscles – a probable signature look of Lexa’s… dare I say ‘gang’? They each appraised me, flickering their gazes back to Lexa. She must’ve communicated _something_ to them with the almost imperceptible shake of her head. They grunted to each other before retreating out of her bedroom. Once they’d gone, Lexa pressed a hand to her stomach, struggling to meet my eye, “You need to go. I can phone you a taxi.”

 I didn’t want to recoil. But, the way she’d dismissed me did sting. I would be lying if I’d said otherwise.

 “I’m fine.” I bristled, reaching over to pull my dress on over my legs.

 “Regardless of that fact, you’ve seen enough.” She plucked her phone up one more time, wrapping a silken nightgown around her frame and occupying herself with the screen.

 “You said you wanted me to know you, Lexa.” I rose to her level, beginning to bridge the distance between us, “Whatever this is, it’s a part of who you are. Let me in.”

 The green of Lexa’s irises hardened, “Forget everything I said. It was a mistake. You’ve already stayed here too long. I’m ordering you a taxi.”

 I wanted to punch the phone out of her hand. And then throw it at her head.

 “Fuck your taxi.” I spat, “Tell me straight, Lexa. What’s the real reason you want me to leave?”

Her jaw clenched and she raised her head towards me, “Because, Clarke, I can’t let myself care about you anymore.”

 “Why not?”

 She said nothing. But, it told me everything.

 “Like you ever fucking cared, anyway.” I snapped, rejecting her response completely.

 “I do care, Clarke.” She spoke, quietly, “More than you know. That’s why we can’t do this anymore. You could’ve died tonight.”

 I shook my head in plain refusal, “That’s bullshit. Shit just got real for you. You’re feeling guilty because you’ve pulled me into your life deeper than you meant to. Now you feel responsible and the easiest course of action to take is to get rid of me. I just wish you’d had the balls to tell me before I…” I took a steadying breath, “Before tonight.”

 Her expression was unreadable. It almost sent me spiralling into a fit of fury – she’d been so appealingly mysterious and closed off. Then the second we’d peeled back the first layer of ourselves, she’d regretted it. Maybe she was banking on me keeping detached right until the end.

 “Some risks outweigh others, Clarke. I’m making this decision with my head and not my heart.”

  _Stop it._

 She might as well have just said the whole ‘it’s not you, it’s me’ crap.

 “Some decisions shouldn’t be _just_ yours to make.” I clenched my fists as her lips pressed together in one hard line.

 “This one is. Goodbye, Clarke.”

 “ _Fuck_ you, Lexa. Fuck you and your rehearsed goodbyes.”

 I was through with laying myself on the line with her. I had to applaud her, though. She spoke her insincerities with such intent that I almost believed she meant them.

 Almost.

 “I’ll get my own fucking taxi.” I strode past her, collecting my bag on the way out of the door. She let me walk. The last part of her I recall seeing was the phlegmatic stare of her pale green eyes.

 

.::. _L_.::.

 

 This was the way it was. The way it had to be. Although Clarke couldn’t see that now, perhaps one day she would. Then again, even if she didn’t, I would consider it a blessing. It was for the best if she hated me – at least then I knew she wouldn’t come back.

 I held it together until she’d gone. I couldn’t let her witness me cave. But, the second I heard the front door slam shut, I tilted my head backwards and bit down hard on my lower lip.

 It was better for her to leave me than to stay and wind up dead. Even now, I couldn’t be certain she wasn’t under threat. She’d been seen with me by the bastard who’d attacked me downstairs, and he was long gone now. Who knew who was pulling his strings? I doubted he’d keep his lips sealed shut. Clarke was my greatest weakness, and now I was hers.

 I cursed myself for it. I’d tried so hard not to get attached for so long. Just when the fates had tricked me into thinking that maybe, just maybe, I didn’t have to be alone, they quickly reminded me that I was destined to be exactly that.

 My body betrayed me, my own weakness attacking me at the knees. It took all I had to stay standing, but then one final thought of the hurt behind her blue eyes cut my balance out from beneath me.

 With a thud, I hit the floor.

 I’d known her for a few weeks and in that time we’d barely done more than fuck each other. So, why was it that I was left feeling this torn? Of course, I knew why. She was different. I’d known it from the start. She wasn’t like the others I’d taken to bed – for one, she was the first in several months that I’d taken to _my_ bed. That turned out to be my biggest mistake. Why had I let my own selfishness get the better of me?

 Then again, perhaps letting her go had been the most selfless thing I’d done in a long time. I had to know that she would be safe. Somewhere.

 From the floor, I reached for my phone and sent a message to Indra. I kept it concise, informing her of exactly what had happened. Only, I kept Clarke to myself. At least for now. My thoughts lingered on her. Even until the end, she’d still been fighting to stay by my side. I’d tried to convince myself it would be easy for me to watch her leave when the inevitable time came for her to do so. I just hadn’t banked on the fact that she might not be so willing to go. I’d chased her attention and when I finally got it, I ended up chasing her away.

 My phone vibrated almost immediately in my hand and I glanced down at the message from Indra. She was advising me to allow a couple of friends to keep watch of the house – and of course, she’d thrown in the suggestion that it might not be amiss to consider moving elsewhere. That was absolutely not going to happen. This house was mine. I was not about to let myself come across as weak by running away. If it was a powerful influence who had sent the two men to my home, they would have made sure the job got done properly. That led me to believe it was either an independent attack or another power play. Either way, I doubted they would return tonight. I agreed that it would be a good idea to have some protection for the house. Not for my benefit. But, two pairs of eyes was better than one. I wanted to get to the bottom of this. Whoever was plotting against me would feel the keen sting of my vengeance.

 And then some.

 

.::. _C_.::.

 

  The second I stepped through the door, I was reminded that I wouldn’t be alone. Far from it in fact. The recollection that Octavia was hosting a flat party had slipped my mind until I happened upon several intoxicated individuals occupying my living space. Over the sound of melodic beats, I could hear slurred chatter and laughter – sounds which were not met with welcoming ears.

 “Clarke!” Octavia spied me from the kitchen and swanned towards me with a grin on her face, “I didn’t expect you back tonight.”

 As she drew closer, her steps slowed. She knew something was wrong.

 “I’m going to bed.” I told her, “Don’t worry. You can keep the party going. I won’t be sleeping anyway.”

 “What happened?” She cut straight to the point, her eyes eventually managing to focus on me.

 “Nothing. Goodnight, O.”

 “Clarke, you have blood on your head, and…” She scanned me up and down, “… in other places. What the fuck happened?”

 I definitely didn’t have the capacity to relay the events of the evening back to her, and so I settled for just shaking my head, “Tomorrow. Please.”

 Octavia must’ve finally noticed she was drawing unwanted attention to me and so she took a step backwards, raising her glass, “Alright, more shots!”

 An arm wrapped around my shoulders and led me away from the living room. I didn’t want to be touched right then but I accepted the guidance, anyway. I didn’t really have it in me to fight anymore. As soon as I approached my bedroom, I recognised Bellamy pushing open the door and leading me inside. As he shut out the noise, he directed me towards the bed and helped me sit, “I won’t ask what happened if you don’t want me to.”

 I shook my head.

 I didn’t want him to.

 In understanding, he nodded, retrieving a roll-up from behind his ear, “Alternatively…” He offered it to me and I numbly took it, still trying to block out the last few hours. He lit the end for me and I leaned back against the headboard, taking a deep drag.

 For a while, the two of us sat in silence, swapping the joint between us. I wasn’t going to lie. It did help. Sort of. After a while, I finally looked up at him. He flickered his gaze over to me and exhaled a plume of smoke into the space between us, “Better?”

 I nodded.

 He didn’t push it. I was grateful for his presence; Bellamy had always been a good friend to me. Despite our shared bad habits, he always meant well. The silence continued between us and I plucked the roll-up from his hand, pressing it back between my lips.

 “I’m okay.” I was probably trying to reassure myself more than I was him, but he accepted it anyway, “I’ve just been an idiot, that’s all.”

 I caught him raise an eyebrow.

 “Don’t say it.” I muttered, before he could make any kind of quip, “I’m always an idiot, I know.”

 Bellamy just exhaled a quiet laugh, “Hey, you said it. Not me.”

 “You didn’t have to.” I passed him the butt of the blunt so he could toss it out the window.

 “Is it about Lexa?” He murmured, carefully.

 I hated the sound of her name. I hated how, when I heard somebody else say it, all I could think of was her olive-skin and empty-eyed stare. And the way she’d cast me aside. Easily. So _fucking_ easily.

 “It doesn’t matter. Whatever shit we had going on is over. Don’t ask me why. I mean, it’s not like we had anything, really. It’s just what I was expecting from the start.”

 Only, it wasn’t at all what I was expecting from the start.

 What I’d expected was nothing even remotely similar to what had transpired between us. Who’d have imagined me treating her friend in hospital? Who’d have guessed that she would’ve pursued me to the extents she did? Who’d have thought I would’ve let her? More than that, nobody could have assumed that there would be a break in at her home, that I would’ve gotten punched in the head, that she almost would kill a man… and then decide that I was no longer worth enough to stay. The more I thought of it, the more I hated her for it. She probably hadn’t even kept the man alive, anyway. She was likely leading me on to believe she was just so I wouldn’t turn and stab her in the back with information she’d exposed to me. Either way, it didn’t matter. The sooner I accepted that she was less than what I thought she was, the sooner I could get over her. I’d been fucked over too many times in the past to go through it all again. Besides, we hardly knew each other.

 We could have. If none of this had happened.

 But, it had. And now, I’d seen Lexa for who she was. Afraid. A coward.

 “Clarke, I don’t know what happened – obviously. But, if she did this to you, you need to tell somebody.”

 “Oh, this old thing?” I indicated to the swollen lump coated in dried blood on my head, “Don’t worry. She had nothing to do with this. This was my own fault.”

 It wasn’t a lie. I had just hit a man in the face with a lamp.

 Bellamy didn’t seem convinced, but I appreciated him giving me the benefit of the doubt. He opened his mouth to say something, but was interrupted by his sister pushing open the bedroom door. The music filtered in through the gap before Octavia closed it once more, “Clarke, are you okay?”

 The cannabis in my system started talking for me, “Grand.” I told her with a hazy grin, “I’m just being dramatic.”

 “Your head…” She began.

 “I hit somebody with an electrical appliance and he didn’t get on with the idea very well.” I replied, “You know what I’m like after I’ve had a drink.”

 Octavia just rolled her eyes, “Jesus, Griffin. I let you out of the house for one evening…”

 “Shouldn’t you put some ice on it or something?” Bellamy offered, to which his sister spared him an exasperated glare.

 “Right.” He nodded, “ _I_ should put some ice on it.”

 He stood up and exited to go and find said ice before returning once more. Octavia took it from him, evidently not trusting him enough with such a simple task, and pressed the bag to my head.

 Neither of the Blake siblings said anything further, but they stayed with me. Right up until eventually I could close my eyes and relax. Or, at least, visibly that’s how it seemed. Once they’d left me in peace and turned off my bedroom light, I couldn’t stop the thoughts from plaguing my mind.

  _I don’t… want to hide from you, Clarke. I want you to know me._

 Well, now I did.

 And I hated her and myself for it.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I imagine very few of you will thank me for this chapter. However, I'm considering releasing the following chapter a little sooner than I would usually. I hope generally that the story is starting to fill out a little more. I might add that some parts of the story are likely to get a little heavy, but I promise I will continue to fulfil all your Clexa needs the best I can.
> 
> As always, don't keep your thoughts to yourselves. Share them! I love reading your comments - this story is as much for you as it is for me.
> 
> Thank you. 
> 
> Lady Of Cythera  
> xox


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Set some weeks after the intrusion at Lexa's home.

.::. _L_.::.

 

 “You’re back.” Indra wasted no time in alerting me to her reservations about my presence back in Polis, “Do you really think it’s a good idea? So soon after…?”

 “It’s been over a month, Indra. How do you think it would appear if I shied away from my own club?” I returned, stepping through the back entrance of the building.

 “Like you were smart.”

 I studied her for just long enough to make her shift uncomfortably.

 “I only mean that you’re not in the clear. We still can’t be certain who’s behind the intrusion. Since we took care of Gustus’ attacker, things have quietened down, but that does not mean it’s safe.”

 She must’ve assumed I hadn’t thought this through already.

 “Need I remind you that I’m not a child anymore, Indra?”

 “I know you’re not.” She spoke with underlying respect and I felt my shoulders ease slightly, “It’s my job to keep you safe. If I can’t do that, then I’ve failed.”

 “I’m not a porcelain doll, either.” I sighed, “But, yes. I understand. Now, I’m going to get a drink. I want to see the faces of everybody in my club tonight. Ensure Nyko and his team are vigilant when they allow people in and out.”

 Indra faithfully inclined her head, “Of course.”

 I wasn’t at the club for my own enjoyment. I was here on business. I hadn’t actively sought out recreational pastimes in recent weeks. I’d been too busy ensuring the safety of my company and my employees… On top of that, I’d been waiting for the right moment to question the attacker who I attempted to have saved. However, when he was finally conscious, he disappeared right from under our noses. I’d assumed his people must have devised a method in which to sneak him out of the hospital ward without arousing suspicion. I’d saved him for nothing.

 The thought tormented me deeply.

 I should’ve just killed him.

 Why had I spared him?

 Because Clarke had asked me to.

 I signalled for a drink from a passing barmaid and took my preferred seat in the VIP section, my stare settling on the growing crowd below.

 I hated how I still felt affected by her. She had every reason to despise me. I knew that. I hadn’t expected her to try and contact me; I hardly thought her as the forgiving type. She’d thrown me a rope and I’d cut it in half. Surely, she wouldn’t forget that. For her own benefit, I hoped she wouldn’t. Just as I wouldn’t forget that night. Not for a long time to come.

 

_“You want me to know you… then start by telling me what turns you on… where you like to be touched…” Clarke murmured, her fingers coiling around my thigh. I drew in a soft breath and met her gaze, my hand covering hers._

_“I think you already know what turns me on, Clarke.”_

_She let the smirk pull at her lips as she cocked an eyebrow, “But it turns_ me _on when you tell me…”_

_I knew she was very aware that saying that would have a particular effect on my response; she knew I exercised the power to make her feel something at every opportunity. So, she seized the opportunity._

_Silently, I directed her hand up along my thigh, my eyes staying fixed on hers._

_I moved slowly, but deliberately, absorbing the sight of her pale skin flush deep pink._

_“When I grip your thigh?” She asked quietly._

_I nodded._

_She squeezed._

_My jaw slackened._

_“What else?”_

_“My ribs.” All moisture had evaporated from my throat, leaving my voice dry, “When… when you kiss my ribs.”_

_She edged closer, suddenly pushing me onto my back. I felt my expression release every sensation of pleasure she gave me._

_Her fingers were already pulling up the hem of my tight-fitted top, uncovering me from the diaphragm all the way down to my middle, “Here?” She asked, lowering her tongue just beneath my breast, running it over the slim bone lightly._

_All I could do was emit a gentle whimper – but I thought she rightly gathered that as a ‘yes’._

_So, she grazed her teeth over my rib, watching my head tilt back into the pillows._

_Definitely right there._

_Deftly, she moved her lips over the sharpness of my bone, feeling each hard curve beneath her mouth. Yet, she didn’t kiss it. Not right away._

_First, she closed my teeth around her skin, sucking tantalisingly._

Then _she kissed the base of my ribcage, her hands pushing my hips into the bed._

_I knew I was giving her the responses she desired. I was light-headed._

_I was feeling._

 

.::. _C_.::.

 

 Introspectively, my life was currently going as well as I could have hoped.

 My ribs were fully healed, meaning I was able to scrub into the more manual procedures at the hospital. I was over halfway through my exams, each of which I’d been appropriately prepared for. I was passing all of my observations on the wards, and I had no distractions to deter me from my studies, or my work.

 So, yes, introspectively, my life was currently going as well as I could have hoped.

 Aside from the ‘no distractions’ part.

 I’d had no choice except to launch myself headfirst into my work, knowing that was the only way I could keep myself occupied from my thoughts. Since Gustus had been moved to the private unit, I’d faced no possibility that I might accidentally bump into Lexa on the wards, or in the car park. Or outside the psych ward. Or anywhere, really.

 I’d told myself it was a good thing.

 The space had given me the chance to settle myself – to a degree, anyway. It had been a month since she’d cut ties with me. _Over_ a month, in fact. Probably closer to two. I’d never been a clingy person, as such. I’d had enough experiences in the past to know that making connections with people usually ended up in all sorts of messes. Yet, like the idiot I was, I’d gone and landed myself in another. Now, I’d been working on picking myself up and focusing on my career. It wasn’t a cure, but it stopped me from frequently wondering what the hell was wrong with me. I knew part of the problem was that I cared too much. I always had. It was just that I thought I’d learned my lesson(s) already. But, life always found a way to remind me that I apparently hadn’t. It wasn’t even just about Lexa. It was about me and my patterns of self-destructive behaviour. I faced a constant battle of knowing I should put myself first and caving into my impulses to put everybody else first. I never liked to admit it, though. I hated martyrs and I was determined not to become one.

 Also, talking of terrible relationships, I happened upon my mother as I entered the ER staff room. Since she was based at the other end of the hospital, I knew she’d been waiting for me.

 “Clarke, can I have a minute?” She asked before I could pretend I hadn’t seen her.

 I supposed she would take a minute anyway, regardless of my answer.

 I waited.

 “I’ve been thinking…” She began carefully, “About your dad.”

 “Just recently?” I muttered, sarcastically, “How gracious.”

 I’d known she was going to bring him up sooner rather than later. It was a week until the anniversary of his death. I was just being difficult on purpose.

 She silenced me with a deep brown-eyed glare, continuing as though I’d said nothing, “Look, it’s been 3 years and we haven’t done anything together since it happened. I think he would want us to spend the anniversary together. As a family.”

 My arms folded automatically and I raised an eyebrow, “Do you know what I think he would want? To be alive. I think he’d want for none of this to have happened. He’d have wanted you to have supported him the way he always supported you.”

 I’d been relentless about my opinion on the subject, and I knew it hurt my mother every time I voiced it. But I couldn’t help it. The pain was still a throbbing ache in my chest. Losing my dad was the most difficult thing I’d ever experienced, and I still hurt. Undoubtedly, I would continue to hurt for the rest of my life.

 As for my mother, I couldn’t give a damn how it felt for her, because it was her effing fault in the first place.

“You know that’s not fair. Clarke, please. Don’t do this. This isn’t what he’d want!” My mother caught my sleeve, “Please… bear my company. Just for one day. For him.”

 I scoffed, “You mean for you. Not for him.”

 “Clarke.”

 I groaned quietly at the stern bite of her tone. She was deadly serious about this.

 “You realise that I do think about him all the time?” I kept my voice as even as I could, “And that every time I look at you, I think about the way you let all of this happen.”

 “If I could change what happened, I would. And you know that. I loved him, Clarke. I still love him. I always will.”

 “Well, you can’t change it. This is how it is. And now I’ve inherited your wonderful talent of fucking up the relationships I have with almost everybody in my life.”

 My mother wasn’t interested in my self-disparaging comment, or the dig I made at her. She narrowed her stare and spoke clearly, “There were things I could’ve done differently, but when it all comes down to it, he made a choice.”

 I shook my head, tiredly, “To him, it was the only choice he had left to make.” Before she could say anything further, I glanced at my watch, “It looks like your minute is up.”

 “Clarke, please!”

 Just to stop myself from an inescapable onslaught of future hounding, I exhaled, “Fine. We’ll play happy families for one day.” I turned away to the door, barely giving her chance to thank me before I closed it behind me.

 I was grateful, in a morbid kind of way, my base was at the ER. There was never a shortage of tasks to complete – I knew I could count on some poor fool to slip a disc whilst incorrectly practicing manual labour, or on some unfortunate soul with a heart condition, to keep my shift busy. As it happened, the two of them kept me quite busy for the next hour so it meant I didn’t have to think too deeply about the conversation I’d had with my mother. However, in the moments that I was able to take a breather (literally meaning one single breath) between patients, I found myself utterly unprepared for the flashback images of my last night with Lexa. Small snippets of passion prior to the intrusion. Her body pressing against mine. Her hands pulling through my hair. Her lips on every inch of my skin. My hands pushed into the bedding…

 

_“Clarke…” My name left her lips in a disjointed gasp as I raised my head from between her legs._

_I loved watching her finish. She blinked at the way my smirk etched its way onto my lips. It was rare that I caught her blinking so obviously, and so I savoured it. I relished it._

_She shuddered so powerfully, yet so gracefully. The perfect representation of who she was. Power and grace._

_I let my lips find their way to her stomach, kissing my way slowly up her torso. Her hands sought my hair as I neared her throat, “Clarke… It’s my turn.” She murmured, quietly, “I want to know what turns you on.”_

_My mouth trailed to her jaw and I sucked lightly at the skin before raising my head, “How about you guess, and I’ll tell you if you’re right…?” I offered her a provocative grin, and she took it. Her eyes ran over my lips for a moment before she inclined her head._

_Then suddenly, I was on my back, Lexa kneeling either side of my thighs, her hands pushing mine into the mattress._

_Well, she was off to a good start._

_With her head balanced above mine, she let her eyes run over my features, “How am I doing so far?”_

_She knew goddamn well how she was doing. I blinked, drawing my lip beneath my teeth._

_“That’s another turn on for me…” She murmured, “You biting your lip like that.”_

_“It is?” I raised an eyebrow, “I guess it works out well then… since I do that when_ I’m _turned on.”_

_The corners of Lexa’s mouth pulled up into a small smile and she dragged her hand along the inside of my arm, to my side, and down to my hip, “What else?”_

_“Right there.” I was pretty sure she was already aware I liked her touching my hips, but I wanted to confirm it anyway. Her hands often found themselves fixated on them; squeezing them, kissing them… controlling them._

_Experimentally, she rested her thumb over the tender flesh just beneath my hipbone._

_I nodded slowly._

_So, she pushed harder._

_I felt the gentle murmur of pleasure leave my throat, rather than heard it._

_My austere stranger dipped her head down and rested on her forearm, her lips kissing along my waist towards the sensitive spot she’d pinned beneath her thumb. I wasn’t even ashamed of the way she evoked the breathy exhales of sound from my lips; to tell the truth, I couldn’t get enough. After a few moments, she raised her head, her mouth parted and her eyes heavy, “Where else?” She asked, her voice naturally even, yet dry. So dry._

_“Here.” I took her hand and rested it over my breast, my breathing quickening the second her thumb ran over the flesh, “But I suppose that’s a given.”_

_“Then let me give you something else…”_

_And she did._ God _, she did._

_That night, Lexa didn’t just touch me… didn’t just caress me._

_That night, Lexa owned me._

 

 “Griffin?”

 I snapped my head up towards the bed curtain where I saw Dr Emerson’s smug face hovering in the gap between the two drapes. He was back?

 “You realise this bay is empty?”

 I glanced to the unused mattress on my left, “I’m glad _you_ told me, Doctor. I might not have noticed otherwise.”

 I didn’t expect him to react well to my quip so it came as no surprise when he stepped through the curtains, “Funny. I presume there’s a reason you’re gawping about in here, then?”

 “It seems somebody left the de-fib out of its case.” I gestured to the machine sitting quietly on the chair beside the bed, “So, it’s a good job you’re here really. I was going to do it myself, but I should probably just leave it to the expert. Besides, I’ve suddenly remembered I need to go and gawp about elsewhere. Welcome back, by the way.” I offered him a sickly smile and eased past him, tightening the band in my hair once I’d passed through the curtains.

 I knew he’d find a way to punish me for it later… he’d probably line me up a handful of patients who all needed rectal examinations or enemas, or something. But, the look on his face was worth it. Although, two enemas and four rectal examinations later, I was beginning to question just how ‘worth it’ it was…

 “Griffin.”

 I stopped what I was doing at the sound of my name and turned to see a familiar face standing before me. I had to admit, seeing Indra poised at the entrance to the ER was the last sight I’d expected to see. She was donned in her security outfit, so I presumed she must’ve arrived here straight after work. It was late after all. Or early.

 My heart thundered in my chest, but I forced my body not to betray me, “Can I help you?”

 She glanced about her, warily, “We need to talk. In private.”

 I could think of a thousand things I would rather do.

 “Unless it’s urgent, I’m afraid I’m a bit overworked at the moment.”

  _Please don’t let it be urgent_.

 I should’ve presumed it was considering she had come to me in person at my place of work. Who even did that? Hadn’t she got the memo that Lexa and I were no longer in contact?

 “It’s urgent.”

 I’d thought as much.

 Checking my watch, I exhaled, “You’ll have to give me a few minutes. I’m late for an assessment. If you could wait in the lobby, I’ll come find you.”

 Indra didn’t seem to appreciate taking orders from somebody as lowly as me. She ran her dark eyes over my features, her expression darkening, “I’ll wait.”

 “Right, well… good. Okay.” I hadn’t expected her to consent straight off the bat, but I was relieved that she had. It gave me a few minutes to prepare myself for whatever she needed. I quickly attended the assessment room and found myself a little disappointed that the patient’s illness was just about as simple as it could be. I’d rather hoped for a longer, more complex medical issue – one that would require my undivided attention for at least an hour. That way, Indra might’ve gotten bored and left.

 As it happened, I was in and out of the assessment within fifteen minutes.

 Grimacing to myself, I headed for the lobby and caught sight of Indra standing stiffly in the corner of the area. She spied me instantly and strode towards me with purposeful steps, following me into an empty room.

 I made no pretences to be polite to her. It was far too late into the night for me to bridle my growing fatigue, “What do you want?” I asked, bluntly.

 Indra didn’t seem to be interested in making pleasantries either. She responded, her voice rich and deep, “Have you seen this man come through the ER within the last four weeks?”

 She showed me a picture of a recognisable face. The very same face that I had struck with a lamp over a month ago. In truth, I hadn’t seen him since. So, I shook my head.

 “No.” I was already getting myself prepared to leave the room, but Indra sidestepped in front of me, blocking my path.

 “Are you sure?”

 I released frustrated laugh, “Indra, I see hundreds of new faces every week. I can barely remember the ones I’ve seen tonight, let alone a month ago.”

 “But, you remember his face, don’t you?” She pressed, “Don’t lie to me.”

 I conceded, “God. Fine. Yes. But, I haven’t seen him since he punched me in the head. If you’ll excuse me, I have patients to see to.”

 Indra wasn’t done. Clearly.

 “Then, tell me… do you recognise this face?”

 This time, the image was a little harder to make out. There was a gentleman dressed in a white doctor’s coat, observed to be pushing a hospital bed down a pale blue corridor. The photograph was blurry – it looked like it could be a CCTV screenshot. I saw the date printed in the top right corner of the picture. It was captured just under 4 weeks ago. Why was Indra only just coming to me about it now? In fact, how did she know when I would be working?  

 “There’s not much of a face to recognise here.” I informed her, shrugging, “Just looks like a doctor moving a patient.”

 “Is that normal? For doctors to move patients? Do you not have porters and healthcare assistants for that kind of thing?”

 She had a point. But, I’d moved beds before when there was no other staff to step in. So, it wasn’t unheard of. Instead of providing any more information, I started to ask questions of my own.

 “Maybe if you gave me a little bit of context, I might be of more use to you. Firstly, I want to know something. What makes you think I’ll help you?”

 Indra scowled, the lines on her forehead deepening as she scrutinised me harshly, “Are you saying you won’t?”

 I stood my ground and raised an eyebrow, “That’s not what I said at all. But, now you’ve made me curious as to what you’ll do to me if I don’t. Will you get rid of me, too? Cut off my head and send it as a little present to your boss?”

 The woman before me looked very much as though she would like to slap me hard across the face, “You dare–”

 “–Indra, I’m sure you’re aware by this point that I have no dealings with your manager anymore. Therefore, I have no motive to indulge you with any such information. I owe you nothing. If you’re done trying to intimidate me, I’d like to get back to my job.”

 Forcefully, I stepped past her solid form to the door, only to find her hand grasping tightly around my wrist, “Listen carefully, girl. As much as I would love to decapitate you at this point, I’m here because there are lives at stake. Yours included. We have reason to believe that the man in this picture facilitated an escape for the person who tried to kill you. If that’s the case, this doctor impersonator may well know who you are. If you’re truly not interested in trying to keep Lexa safe, then at least co-operate to keep yourself safe. You’re a doctor, aren’t you? Don’t you base your entire moral code on saving lives?”

  _Moral code_?

 I felt the anger build deeply within me, “You know what? Since you’re all so concerned about my wellbeing, maybe you could leave me the _fuck_ alone. If your boss wanted my help, she shouldn’t have cut me off. But, she’s made her bed and now you will all goddamn well lay in it.”

 “She did you a favour. Cut you off for your own good. You’ll really run the risk of letting her get killed just for the sake of your own pride?”

 I’d just about had enough of Indra’s voice biting at my eardrums.

 “No, she cut me off for _her_ own good. She got scared and she ran. I’ve heard nothing from her since then, so what happens to her is of no concern to me. Pride has _nothing_ to do with it.” I yanked my arm from her hold, “Now, unless you want me to start looking into how you got a hold of that CCTV image in the first place, I suggest you leave.”

 Indra thrust the photograph into my hands, “Look into it all you like. I’m happy to be prosecuted if it only means _she_ is kept safe. If you do change your mind and get your head out your ass, my number is written on the back.” She bumped her shoulder into mine on her way out of the room, carrying her seething rage with her, “I would recommend you to use it. You really wouldn’t want me as your enemy.”

 “Wouldn’t say I want you as a friend, either.”

 Bitch.

 I screwed up the paper and shoved it into my pocket, hardly able to process what had just transpired.

 Before I knew what I was doing, I found my phone trembling in my hand, a message typed out on the screen. A wave of uncertainty passed over me as my thumb hovered over the send button.

 “Griffin?”

 I glanced up from my screen to the doorway where Dr Emerson stood, leaning against the frame.

 “What was all that about?”

 He must’ve seen Indra power out of the room in all her fury.

 I quickly deleted the message to Lexa, deciding that I wasn’t about to start making contact with her again. Even if it meant letting her know that her tactic didn’t work. I wasn’t going to let myself be bullied by her hounds.

 “Nothing.” I muttered.

 He frowned lightly, “Are you sure? I can contact security if you like. It’s not acceptable for patients to be threatening staff members.”

 I rolled my eyes at his artificial concern and slid my phone back into my pocket, “Honestly, I’m kind of used to it by now.”

 He watched me through searching eyes for a moment, probably checking to make sure I wasn’t too shaken up, before he nodded his head (likely in disappointment), “Did you know her?”

 I shook my head, “No. Look, thanks, but I’m fine.” I lied.

 He seemed to accept this and he nodded, slinking back out the room to resume his superior duties elsewhere.

 Angrily, I hit out at the wall closest to me, ignoring the throb of my bone as it collided with the brick. The more I thought about it, the more pissed off I became.

 Lexa made it quite clear she no longer wanted me in her life. She had made no attempt to contact me since then. So, when she needed me, she sent her guard dog to try and intimidate information out of me. She didn’t even have the balls to come to me herself.

 Maybe I had severely underestimated her cowardice.

 Maybe she’d severely underestimated my power of will.

 

.::. _L_.::.

 

  Over the next week, there was little to show for my efforts to find out who was after me. I already knew Nia was targeting my clubs. I understood why – I ran very successful businesses and I was a well-known figure in the public with a great deal of influence. I never liked to consider myself as the head of a criminal syndicate, but the unpleasant reality was that I did participate in and arrange organised crime to benefit those who were within my clique. And society, where I could.

 However, Nia had problems of her own at the moment. Her plans to seize my title had been dormant since the attempt on Gustus’ life. I’d been informed by a reliable source that she was focused on trying to recruit her son to work alongside her once again. I would be surprised if she was successful since both she and her son were often at odds with one another. But, without his assistance, it would be unlikely for her to wage any sort of war on me. He was the one with the money, after all.

 But, that begged the question. Who was the other party desperate for my demise?

 I imagined there was a large group of people queuing up for a shot at my businesses, but the difficulty I faced was finding out exactly who the strongest contender was. Indra had been following up on a few leads, but each had turned out to be dead ends, so we were still just as empty handed as we were to start off with. In fact, Indra had been quiet as of late. I presumed she was busy throwing herself into the investigation, but it was uncharacteristic of her not to phone me with updates. I hit her number into my phone and waited for her to pick up – which she usually did after a couple of rings.

 “ _Indra speaking_.”

 “Anything to report?”

 There was a short silence before she confirmed my estimate that she’d found nothing of consequence. Even so, I knew there was something she was keeping to herself. She rarely hesitated when speaking to me.

 “What is it?” I waited expectantly for her to fill me in.

 “ _I took the photograph we pulled from the hospital CCTV to the hospital._ ” She told me after some deliberation, “ _To Clarke Griffin_.”

 I stopped breathing. Just for a moment. Hearing Clarke’s name was a painful reminder of our last encounter. Then my thoughts quickly pressed to anger.

 “ _I knew you wouldn’t approve, but I_ –”

 “–You went to Clarke?” I repeated, still focused on her first revelation, “Without consulting me?”

 “ _I know, I shouldn’t have done it, but_ –”

 “–You’re aware of the danger you could’ve put her in by doing that? Indra, the entire reason I cut ties with her was to keep her _safe_. You showing up there in the lion’s den could expose her previous connection to us.”

 Indra took a steady breath, “ _With all respect, ma’am, your life is my priority. Not hers._ ”

 “Your priority is what I tell you it is.” I spoke the words with such vehemence that it rendered Indra momentarily silent, “Did anybody see you there?”

 “ _She was on a night shift. Most staff members were busy and there were plenty of patients to blend in with_.”

 “You’d better hope that no harm will come to her because of this, Indra. Pull some strings and make sure we have eyes on the ER at all times. Even if it means getting a few of our own to apply for a position in the hospital security team.”   

 “ _Yes, ma’am._ ” Indra replied, keeping her opinions to herself. It was for the best. I was in no mood to be contested.

 “I presume she didn’t offer any information.”

 Indra’s tone thickened with underlying malice, “ _No. She refused. Even when I told her your life was at risk_.”

 Even though it stung, it was exactly what I would’ve expected.

 “Was she angry?” I tried to feign disinterest, but I was fooling neither myself nor Indra.

 “ _Yes, ma’am. She hasn’t forgiven you._ ”

 Could it be that Clarke was still affected by what I’d done? I wondered vaguely if she thought of me as often as I thought of her. I pictured the way her eyes, so full of betrayal, burned into my core.

 “Good.” I concluded, “Then, perhaps it will keep her away from all of this.”

 “ _If she finds out you’re keeping tabs on her at the hospital with our security, it might make matters worse. She’s a liability to us. She knows too much._ ”

 “What are you suggesting, Indra?” I didn’t like the implication behind her observation.

 “ _I’m not. I’m merely pointing out that aggravating her further may encourage her in support of whoever is behind the attack_.”

 “It’s a risk I’m willing to take. So long as she is kept safe.”

 “ _Lexa…_ ” Indra exhaled, softly, her voice turning strangely motherly, “ _You made the right choice cutting her off. I know you found it difficult. I know you’re afraid of losing her the same way you lost… well, the same way you’ve lost someone before. But, it would serve you well to put her out of your mind. I know you’re not weak. But, I fear that if you pursue her… if you let yourself love her, it’ll be your downfall._ ”

 I knew she was right. I had been slipping into familiar patterns as I had done before. That was why I was so determined to keep Clarke safe from the things I’d done. I couldn’t risk letting anybody else die because of me.

  _Love is weakness_. I’d learned that the hard way.

 “Sometimes it isn’t quite so simple.” The words escaped me before I could stop them.

 I had known Indra since I was a girl. She was one of very few people who had ever seen me waver. I hated making myself appear vulnerable to anybody, including her, but the way she’d spoken to me reminded me of a time when I had been allowed to feel something. Or at least, when feeling something didn’t put those close to me in jeopardy.

 “ _I know. You watch people in the crowd connecting with each other and you’re reminded that you were never allowed to have those same relationships. You never had the opportunity to live life as a wild youth. This is a role you had pushed on you since being young and you rose to every challenge you faced. Yet, the greatest challenge of all is learning how to be alone. It is something we must all deal with until the end of our days. We cannot afford to put others in danger for our own selfish wants. We are more than just ourselves. We protect society and we seek to do good where we can. Being alone is a sacrifice we are all required to make_.”

 I stared at my bedroom wall, my jaw set. I couldn’t agree with Indra completely – we did do some good for the public, such as provide protection on the streets and work with the police to bring down groups of dangerous and organised criminals. That was how we were kept in the law’s good graces. But, we did things ourselves that would sicken most people to the stomach. We all had blood on our hands. There was no good or evil. There was only the strong and the weak. Right now, I was left wondering which category I fit into.

 Indra said nothing further on the subject and made the decision to bring the phone call to an end, hanging up shortly after saying her goodbyes.

 I thought back to the mistakes I’d made in my past, and the mistakes I would still make. Usually, people never caught my attention. They were merely instruments to get what I wanted. Quick fucks, useful information, psychoanalysis practice… The more I thought about what I’d had with Clarke, even though it was brief, the more I knew things with her had been different. I couldn’t verbalise or articulate how they were different. It just felt right when I was with her. Since I’d forced her to leave, I’d had this restlessness, this emptiness that sometimes almost consumed me completely. I hadn’t treated her fairly. I knew that I wouldn’t be able to be backtrack, but I tortured myself with the fantasy of it all the same.

 I stared at my phone screen, my thumb grazing over her name in my contact list. I tempted myself with the idea of explaining I’d never intended for any of this to happen. I wanted to tell her that I hadn’t sent Indra as a means of using Clarke’s inside knowledge to my advantage. I wanted to let her know that she was still on my mind after all these weeks.

 But, I didn’t.

 I locked my phone and pushed it to the side, cursing myself for my weakness.

 Despite my success and the undivided loyalty I received from those around me, I sometimes longed for a normal life. What would it have been like? Maybe I’d have grown up with a real, functioning family. Got a regular, far less demanding job. Received my monthly wage slip and decided to frivolously spend it on buying drinks for a pretty blonde girl I’d met at a dive bar. Maybe I would’ve learned her name was Clarke and I’d have asked for her number. I might’ve been nervous to message her. She might’ve given me butterflies every time she sent me a reply. We might’ve agreed to meet up and ended up spending a carefree evening just getting to know each other. At our own leisure.

 She might’ve been here with me now.

 I might’ve never known what it was like to feel alone.

 But, the truth ached.

 I was alone.

 And that was how I had to stay.

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all the support you've offered me. As always, it motivates me to no end to see the commitment and dedication of the Clexa fandom. You're all wonderful.
> 
> I accept this chapter may not have given you all what you were looking for. However, all good things come to those who wait. That's a promise.
> 
> Again, please keep me updated with your thoughts. They are highly appreciated and valued.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A chagrined Clarke agrees to spend time with her mother for the anniversary of her father's death. Lexa receives an unwelcome visitor in Polis and the night begins to take a painful, and unexpected, turn.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I appreciate all the wonderful things you've commented on my previous chapters. Your support is incredible. Thank you so much. I released this chapter sooner than I would have normally due to your requests. Aren't I considerate?
> 
> Enjoy, and don't forget to share your thoughts with me.
> 
> Lady Of Cythera  
> xox

.::. _C_.::.

 

 “I know that look, Octavia Blake.”

 Octavia watched me carefully from my bedroom doorway, two mugs of tea in her hands, “Oh, good.” She sounded relieved, “That means I don’t have to explain myself.”

 “No. I said I know the look. That doesn’t mean I know why you’re wearing it.” I sighed, glancing up from the canvas I had positioned on the easel in front of me. I placed the wooden handle of the paintbrush between my teeth as I mixed a particularly fetching shade of purple onto my pallet.

 With an air of caution, Octavia set down my favourite mug on the window ledge by my elbow and perched on the end of my bed, crossing her legs on the mattress, “Okay… Well, when was the last time you actually did anything exciting?”

 I answered Octavia’s question without consideration, “Oh, you know, I got spewed up on today. I went into the back room to clean myself up and ended up walking in on a nurse jerking off one of the patients. That was exciting. Also, very unethical. Lots of paperwork. So, I suppose it was only exciting for a few seconds.”

 My housemate shuddered visibly, “What disturbing times we live in. Anyway, never mind that. It doesn’t count.”

 “Why not?” I frowned, reaching over for my tea and taking a sip.

 “Because its work related. And it wasn’t even you doing the jerking off.”

 I shrugged, “Well, what else do you expect? I spend most of my waking moments there. And I haven’t seen a penis in months. Well, at least not out of a professional context.”

 I saw patients in the nude all the time – but not in any remote sort of sexual situation. Or, at least, not in a mutual sexual situation.

 Anyway.

 Octavia groaned and threw her hand out in front of her, “Exactly! That’s my point. Clarke, I’m staging an intervention and making sure you have nothing planned for tomorrow evening so I can take you out… and, what? Professional context?”

 I grimaced, “Never mind. And, look, I don’t know. I have this thing with the almighty Mother Griffin tomorrow.”

 “This thing?” She repeated, awaiting elaboration.

 “Yeah. It’s my dad’s anniversary.” I gave as little away as I could. Truthfully, I didn’t really know what to expect myself.

 An empathetic frown crossed her face, but I quickly turned my attention back to the painting I had been working on so I didn’t have to address it, “Of course. I’m sorry.”

 “It’s fine. I’m more worried about what it’ll be like spending an entire day with my mother.” I exhaled, dabbing the bristles of my paintbrush against the canvas.

 “Well, maybe you could use an outlet?” Octavia suggested, “I just feel like you’ve been so busy prepping for your exams and working long hours that you’ll eventually forget what it’s like to have some time to enjoy yourself.”

 “Do you already have something planned?” I asked.

 She shrugged, lightly, “Well, god forbid you ever read your messages.”

 I glanced over at my phone as it lay untouched on my bedside table, “Oh, right. It’s been on silent.”

 “The messages were sent yesterday.”

 “It’s been on silent since then…?” I said, only half-convincingly.

 “Mm, I don’t think so. You’re just an ignorant cow.” Octavia smirked. I had to give her that one. She wasn’t wrong.

 “Oh, come on. You know I’m shit in group chats.”

 “You? Really? Nah… surely not.” She laughed, “Anyway, we agreed that since you and Lexa are no longer bed buddies that we ought to avoid Polis… unless, of course, you wanted to go there.”

 “No.”

 “Not even to make amends?”

 I shook my head, firmly, “The only thing I’d be making if I saw her face is a nice big bruise upside her head.”

 Octavia sighed, mock wistfully, “Well, I for one am starving for the drama.”

 “No.” I said again.

 “I know, I know. I thought as much. What about DC?”

 I sent her a pointed look, “You mean the club directly opposite Polis?”

 “Well, it’s not _directly_ opposite, per-se. It’s more across the road and up a bit.” She gestured with her hand the proximity between the two clubs, “It’s just that’s the best part of town at the moment. Everywhere else is a bit… you know… shit. Full of wankers.”

 “Well, it will be full of wankers if you’re there.”

 Despite Octavia’s accuracy in describing the clubs in town, I still felt a small tug of displeasure at the thought of returning to the street where I met Lexa. It wasn’t that I was worried about reliving nostalgia or anything. I just wanted to avoid all chances that I might end up seeing her again. Of course, it was unlikely, but I didn’t want her anywhere near my mind when I was supposed to be enjoying myself. I was still angry about the whole Indra escapade. Well, I was actually still angry about everything. Not just the Indra escapade.

 Plus, I didn’t know what I might do if I saw her again.

 What my body might do.

 “Hilarious. Where would you want to go, then?” She asked.

 “I wouldn’t.” I muttered, petulantly.

 “Yes, you would. Stop making my life harder than it needs to be.” Octavia decided, breaking my will with a small grin, “Well, why don’t we start off at a couple of bars and see where the night takes us?”

 I sighed, leaning into the idea a little more, “I suppose I could manage that.”

 “I suppose you could.” She agreed, “So, you’re coming out then.”

 “Well, I–”

 “–Oh, you mistake me. That wasn’t a question.”

 “Fine.”

 “Fine.”

 I rolled my eyes and flicked some water off the tip of my paintbrush in her general direction, “Why are you still here?”

 “Rude.” She pouted, making no effort to move whatsoever.

 “How’s things with you and Lincoln, anyway?” I asked, realising just how long it had been since I had actually had a proper conversation with somebody who wasn’t a patient or a colleague.

 “They’re good. He’s getting back from a work conference in Seattle today, so I would advise you to wear ear plugs to bed tonight. I bought a special little something for the occasion.” She offered me a flirtatious smile, “He’s going to eat me all up when he sees me in it.”

 “Gross. You’re a disgusting person and I don’t know why I put up with you.” I commented, immediately following up with, “What did you buy?”

 “It’s all leather and lace. I got a new set of handcuffs too. So, you’re going nowhere near them this time.”

 I scoffed, “Oh, come on. They had been sitting under your bed for months. Somebody had to put them to good use.”

 “You put them to such good use that they broke within about two minutes of you using them.”

 I shrugged, defensively, “Yeah, well, they were flimsy as hell. I hope you bought a better pair this time. There’s no way they’d have survived Lincoln’s big man wrists. Besides which, it wasn’t me wearing them. It was… Oh, god, it was… who the hell was it?”

 “Wasn’t it Finn?” Octavia tapped her chin, “Surely not. He was far too much of a wet fish to do something like that.”

 I shrugged, “He had a couple of weird fetishes. But, no, I don’t think it was him I used them on.”

 We sat in a moment of quiet, lost in trying to recall which poor bugger I had cuffed to the bedpost. It was a natural silence – Octavia and I often left little to the other’s imagination.

 “Anyway, I need to go and prepare.” She finally brushed down her trousers and stood up, getting a look in at my painting, “That’s amazing by the way. No idea what it is, but I love it.”

 “Thanks, I think.” I laughed, waving her off as she made to exit the room. Just before she stepped out onto the corridor, I slapped my thigh, spraying paint on my bare legs, “Michael!” I shouted, “It was Michael.”

 Octavia nodded in recollection, “That’s the one! Oh, dear little Michael. I forgot about him. God, you have terrible taste.”

 Wasn’t that the truth?

 

…

 

 When I arrived at my mother’s home, she was waiting for me on the porch, sitting on the swing bench my dad had built some years before he died. I sighed and reacquainted myself with the building I spent the majority of my childhood. It gave me a peculiar sensation to see it once again, since I had been spending the last few years trying to avoid it.

 “Clarke.” My mother’s mouth pulled upwards into a slow and morose smile.

 I nodded my head and went to join her on the porch swing, “So, what horrors do you have planned for today?” I asked, leaning back into the cushion.

 “I thought we could go to the valley. Take a picnic with us, like old times.”

 Except it wouldn’t be like old times because we were a family member short.

 I just closed my eyes and tilted my head back, “Great. Who’s driving? I vote you, so I can binge drink myself into a stupor.”

 I didn’t need to be looking at my mother to know she would be delivering me a reproachful glare, “You.” She’d said that as a punishment. She wanted my undivided attention and refused to allow me to escape into the bottom of a bottle. Presumably so we could engage in irritating activities like talking and connecting.

 I helped my mother load up all the food into the boot of my car and slid into the front seat, switching on the ignition. I connected my music to the Bluetooth to we didn’t feel the need to fill any silences with awkward conversation. The drive wasn’t as long as I remembered it to be, and after around forty minutes or so, I watched the vast landscape of blues, greens and greys filter into view.

 It had been my favourite place once upon a time. The huge mountains that dwarfed me used to exhilarate me, reminding me that there was so much more than the small life I lead. I had sketched the scenery countless times before; the way the clouds enveloped the mountain peaks and cast deep shadows over the valley’s chasms. The memories were a little difficult for me to think of nowadays.

 I knew where we would sit – the same place we always did. Just by the river.

 I leaned back onto my palms, reaching over for a bottle of beer. She couldn’t stop me from having just the one.

 In fact, she joined me, popping open the lid and letting her gaze settle on the sight before us. For a while, none of us said anything until my mother made the executive decision to strike up conversation.

 “So, how are your studies going?”

 I shrugged, “Yeah, they’re going okay. I’m two thirds of the way through my exams now.”

 “For what it’s worth, Clarke, you’re an excellent doctor. You have the potential to do whatever you set your mind to.”

 I wasn’t so sure.

 I couldn’t deny that I loved my job. I had a great passion for helping others, just as my mother did. Just as my father did. I just sometimes doubted whether I was tricking myself into thinking that I was good enough for the job.

 “Just… don’t do what I did and lose focus on what really matters in life, though. Being a doctor is everything to me, but I see that I made mistakes by spending too much time away from home. I paid too much attention to my career and neglected to be there for the people in my life that mattered the most.”

 I should’ve guessed the conversation would take a similar sort of turn. I took another swig of beer and exhaled, softly, “You mean Dad.”

 “You and your father, yes. I placed too many expectations in you both. You were always a strong-willed child and you had a passion for living. I thought you could carry yourself through life with little prompting from me. I… I regret spending so much time at work and not enough time at home. I should have been there for you both. For a long time, I deluded myself into thinking things were alright. You had a good social circle around you. You were often out with your friends. You were doing well at school. I couldn’t see the problem. Then, one day I was sick… you remember? I couldn’t go into work. That was when I saw it. How much you were struggling.”

 I stared at the blades of grass as they rippled in the gentle breeze, my throat tightening.

 “How much you were both struggling…” She continued, “You shouldn’t have been the one to watch your father decline. I should have been there to support him.”

 I shrugged, “Well, you weren’t.”

 My mother didn’t flinch at what I’d said, but I could see her shift uncomfortably beside me.

 “Look, I’ll admit, I resented you.” I spoke once more, “I still do. But, I suppose… I suppose I never gave you the chance to give me your point of view. I was so distraught about losing Dad that I wanted somebody to blame. Part of me still does.”

 “Clarke…” She began, “… I will take the blame for not being there for you when I should have been. I should have seen the signs of your father’s relapse before I did. But, do you think you could find it in you to listen to my perspective?”

 I said nothing, hoping she would just carry on talking without asking for verbal clarification. But, she didn’t. She waited. I shrugged a shoulder, lightly, “Mm.” I mumbled, hoping it would suffice.

 “Your Dad was a great man.” She began, “Intelligent, funny, brave, loving, kind… he was everything I could have wished for and more. But, he wasn’t perfect and I know I wasn’t either. He had a history of depression, Clarke. Long before we married. Part of his problem was that he felt things. Deeply. Sometimes, too much. When it all got too much, he’d shut everything off…”

 I knew that already. My Dad had always been sensitive – not weak. He was empathetic. He cared about doing what was right. If he did something wrong, he would obsess over it. Beat himself up. I was similar in many ways. I cared and cared until there was nothing left.

 “I supported him faithfully throughout these periods. I made sure he got the help he needed and I would take time off work to look after him. It wasn’t often he had these periods, but when he did, they would last for weeks – sometimes months. When you were a baby, he found it really hard. He did what he could, but some days, he couldn’t even leave the bedroom. He wanted so much to give you everything you deserved, but sometimes he couldn’t. It tortured him, I think. So, I took a couple of years out of work to care for the two of you and things got really tough. For all of us. He was eventually able to get the depression under control and he told me he would always let me know if he started to feel the symptoms of depression return again. We both returned to work while you were at school and he was able to manage his illness for several years. When you started high school, he became withdrawn but he told me it was just the stress of his job. I would ask him to open up to me about it, but he brushed over it every single time, determined to prove there was nothing wrong with him.” My mother took a shaky breath, her dark eyes fixing on the vast space between the valley, “I didn’t want to smother him or undermine his value as a parent, so I turned a blind eye. I continued working, as he asked me to, and I progressed further and further with my career. Then, when I got sick with the flu, I noticed that he wasn’t as okay as he told me he was. The empty beer bottles, his weight loss, your behaviour… I realised that he’d fooled me and I was angry. We had a huge row over it – I know I was wrong to accuse him of the things I did, but I was upset that he wouldn’t accept my help. I was worried about the effect this must have been having on you. That was when I started to notice you’d picked up some of his habits, and mine too. I hadn’t realised what had been expected of you.”

 I pressed my lips together, reliving the memories of spending my afternoons after school cooking meals for my Dad and cleaning the house, trying to reach out to him and keep him well… When the stress of it had gotten too much, I’d snapped. I started getting involved with the wrong crowds, taking recreational drugs, staying out all night and drinking too much. I’d had a couple of run-ins with the law and my mother had done everything in her power to set me back on the right path. None of it had been easy. For any of us.

 I wanted so desperately to hate somebody for it.

 As I looked over at my mother, a woman usually so fearless and powerful, shrinking into the grass by my side, I felt my chest ache painfully. I wasn’t the only one hurting.

 “I know it’s no excuse, but I want you to know that I love you. I always have. Even though I’ve failed you as a mother when you needed me the most, I always tried to do right by you. I wanted to give you everything… instead I took it away.” Her voice cracked on the final word, her shoulders slumping forwards, “I don’t expect you to forgive me. At least, not right away. I just… I hope that one day you might let me back into your life.”

 I reached out for her hand, instinctively, “I… I never knew.” I whispered, “I always thought you didn’t want to be around us. The depressed husband and fuck-up child…”

 “You weren’t a fuck-up, Clarke. You never were. You were always such a good child. Smart. Eager to learn. You never hurt anybody… You always wanted to help people and do the right thing. Even as a little girl. Somewhere along the way, you just felt abandoned and alone and you turned to the only people you felt you had. I missed out on listening to you tell me about your day, or talk about the first boy you fancied… Or…”

 “Or the first girl?” I prompted.

 She inclined her head, “Exactly. Or the first girl.”

 I carefully rested my head against her shoulder, “I shouldn’t have judged you so harshly. I know you loved him… It’s just… It’s hard.”

 My mother wrapped an arm around me and pulled me close to her, the sensation throwing me back several years to a time when it was normal to tell her everything. To a time when I felt I could open up to somebody.

 “I know it’s hard, baby.” She murmured, “I often wonder whether he would have still been here if I’d have just… I don’t know, done _something_ differently.”

 The more I thought of it, the more I knew my Dad had always made up his mind. I didn’t know the challenges he’d faced with his illness. He fought it for so long and it was a battle he’d lost.

 “Depression isn’t something you can cure for somebody else. It’s not like the illnesses we’re used to treating. We can give advice, medication, and listen… but we can’t _force_ somebody into wellness. I think maybe… maybe he knew he would one day take his own life. We couldn’t have stopped him from making that decision. Maybe we could have prolonged it, or put it off… but it had come to a point where he felt he had tried everything. He didn’t see any other alternative.”

 It wasn’t that I thought it was for the best that my dad made that decision. Not at all. I believed firmly that everybody could get better from an illness like depression. But, sometimes, I didn’t think my dad _wanted_ to get better in the end. He felt too much of a burden. I only wished he knew just how loved he was before he’d gone.

 We sat in mellowed silence, the two of us still leaning into the other.

 “Clarke…” My mother spoke eventually, “…Thank you for doing this. For listening.”

 I nodded, “You remember when he built the porch swing?”

 “And almost sawed off his own thumb?”

 I laughed, quietly, “After you told him not to use that saw?”

 She smiled, a tear falling from her cheek, “It was a huge saw for such a small piece of wood. But, he said he was a man and he would use it like a man.”

 “And then when he sliced open his thumb, he was determined to take it like a man.” I giggled at the memory of my father stepping into the kitchen with blood pouring down his hand and his face as pale as the moon, “And he said ‘Clarke, could you fetch me a bit of tissue? Just need to mop this up. Your mother will kill me if I get it on the carpet.’”

 My mom shook her head, “It would have made more sense if he’d asked for a glue stick!”

Slowly, our laughter tapered off into the breeze. It was starting to get a little chilly. We packed up the leftovers from the picnic and hoisted the bags back into the car.

 The drive back was significantly less uncomfortable. I knew my mother and I had a long way to go before we could get back to being the way we were. Yet, in a way, I was grateful that she’d forced me to drive out to the middle of nowhere so we could begin to iron out the creases in our relationship. As much as I’d talked my way into thinking I could take care of myself, I was starting to realise that I had already lost one parent… and I didn’t really want to lose another.

 

.::. _L_.::.

 

 “You seem on edge.”

 I examined the crowds of people mingling into one uniform mass of grey, their clothes and skin reflecting the startling lights of the club. At first, I hadn’t really registered the voice, my eyes trained on the swaying figures below me. Then, I heard a throat clear itself pointedly beside me. With an air of displeasure, I shifted my line of sight over to the suited gentleman (a term I used very loosely) sitting down at _my_ table by _my_ bar, his thick arms crossed confidently over his chest.

 I concealed any surprise I might’ve felt at seeing this particular man within such daring proximity to me, “Are you lost? I’m assuming that’s the case. Your name wasn’t on the guest list last time I checked.”

 “Your little Rottweiler didn’t seem to mind letting me in so much.” The smug expression on his lips prompted me to glance over to Nyko who was currently sandwiched between two burly men.

 “And you thought bringing two Chihuahuas would intimidate him? You thought they would intimidate me?” The thought was laughable, and he knew it.

 “So, you admit it? Nyko’s the new pet now? Oh. That’s right.” He offered me a smirk, “Your old lapdog was compromised. I hope you put him out of his misery in the most humane way possible. I liked Gustus.” The man tilted his head to one side, signalling for a drink from one of the barmaids with a glint in his small eyes.

 I fixed my stare on his just to let him know he didn’t unnerve me. Or anger me. He was determined to get a rise.

 But he knew better than to expect that sort of reaction from me.

 “Why are you here, Roan?”

 Roan feigned interest to the scenery about him, “Just checking out the club. I could see myself getting very comfortable here.” He presented the barmaid with an attempted charming smile as she passed him a champagne, which she was reluctant to acknowledge. She knew he wasn’t a friend of mine, and if she valued her job, she would avoid befriending him herself.

 “So, mummy sent you.” I pressed, running my fingertips around the rim of my glass, catching sight of my security edging closer to the VIP section. I shook my head subtly, a slight gesture indicating for them to stand down.

 “She wants to send you an offer.”

 I was certain she did.

 “It’s no secret that you’re fierce, Lexa. You’re a true business initiate. But, you own only a third of this city. The other two thirds belongs to us.”

 I didn’t respond well to threats, as Roan was well aware.

 “Two thirds? Might I remind you that the two thirds you run are clawing their way out of debt as we speak?”

 Roan accepted this with a smile and pressed his glass to his lips, “It was. Yes. So, about this offer…”

 I cut him off without hesitation, “A tempting one, I’m sure. But, I’m not interested.”

 Adjusting his tie with sloppy sophistication, the gentleman scanned the room briefly, “It really is a nice place.”

I was quickly growing weary of his company, “Is there a point to this unannounced rendezvous, or can I continue my evening without the foul smell of your general presence? It’s quite spoiling what should be an enjoyable event.”

 “Just a quick one…” Roan swilled the contents of his glass before taking a mouthful, “…my mother is hoping we can come to some sort of arrangement. It’s simple really. You merge with us, and nobody gets hurt.”

 I couldn’t guarantee the last part of his offer. I was a hairpin trigger away from stopping his heart.

 “I’m not sure who you were expecting to find here, Roan, but I’m certain it wasn’t me. I’ve never really responded all that well to threats.”

 He sent me a chilly smile, “Respond however you like. Just be prepared for the consequences.”

 I had to stop myself from scoffing at this, “And what consequences might those be?”

 Roan shrugged, easily, “I’ve been following your movements closely over the past few months. I’ve learned enough about you to know where it would hurt if I struck.”

 “Even if you did, don’t think for a moment that I can’t deal with a little pain.”

 Just as he opened his mouth to retaliate, I held up a palm in his direction.

 “Enough.” I stated, “Roan, I might commend you for your efforts to frighten me if they weren’t so pathetic. As it is, your entertainment is wearing thin. Either you leave now, or I make the call to have you removed.”

 “And risk watching your boy get gutted?” He gestured smoothly to Nyko who gave no indication that he was unsettled in any way, “Look, I bear no ill will towards you. But, my mother does. There’s some gain to be made for me if you accept her offer, and I don’t mind watching a few throats get slit if it means I get what I want. Starting with your Rottweiler over there… and maybe finishing with somebody a little closer to your fragile heart.”

 My eyes grazed over the business-like expression on his features.

 “Oh, come on, don’t give me that look. I remember your first puppy-love. What was her name? That barmaid… Carla? No, wait… it’ll come to me. Ah, yes. Costia. I’m curious to know who you will get enamoured with next. A waitress? Or, maybe you’ll aim higher and go for a pretty little doctor.”

 I knew any sudden movement I made would alarm security, instantly resulting in organised chaos. Yet, it took every ounce of strength I had in me to remain frozen to my chair. He wanted me to snap. He wanted to cause a scene. Then, he would knew he would be the one in control. Although it wrenched at my core, I took a slow breath inwards and exhaled. I would have far preferred trapping his head in my hands and watching his neck crunch with one simple twist. However, that was out of the question.

 I did find myself wondering how he knew about Clarke. But, then, it was anybody’s guess. I had been careless in my interactions with her.

 Instead of relenting all my control over to the beast in my chest, I composed myself, taking a second to just _think_.

 That was when I realised there was far more to this than Roan was letting on.

 “Tread carefully. I know plenty about you, too. Going after innocents was never really your style. I’m not saying I’d put it past you, but I think if there was an alternative, you might take it.”

 Roan considered my words, pressing his fingertips together in thought, “Are you saying you’ll take my mother’s offer, then?”

 “No.” I shook my head, “I’m giving you a better one.”

 He leaned casually back into the chair, but I knew he was listening. Attentively.

 “You might’ve had me fooled for a moment, but it’s all quite clear to me now. You’re not here on behalf of your mother at all. You’re here for you. You know I operate far more successfully than she does and you also know that there’s no chance I would accept this faux offer of yours. You want to poke around in the lion’s den to stir up trouble. You want me to react and come after your mother, so you can swoop in and take her failing businesses off her hands without letting her have a penny of profit.”

 I wasn’t surprised when he laughed. He had known I’d meant every word I’d said before. Roan was fully aware that I didn’t take to threats kindly, and he was hoping to use that to his advantage. That was something I wasn’t likely to forget.

 “It seems you are as astute as people say.”

 “I tend not to listen to what people say, so I wouldn’t know.”

  Roan finished off his drink and quickly returned his attention to me, “So, this offer you were talking of?”

 “You survived a very dangerous game tonight.” I said, softly.

 He inclined his head as though he was receiving praise until he noticed my eyes bearing unblinkingly into his.

“Don’t misunderstand me. That wasn’t a compliment. That was a warning. I want to make sure you _never_ forget that the only reason you are breathing right now is because I am allowing it.”

 This time, he seemed to register the implication of my words and he shifted slightly in his chair, probably realising for the first time that he was vastly outnumbered. Every eye of my inner circle was fixed unyieldingly on him and I suspected the reality was all too discomforting.

 “This is _my_ house and everybody who steps in it knows to play by _my_ rules. Do you think you could do that?”

 Roan slowly nodded his head, “Yes, ma’am.”

 “Good. Now, tell your men to leave, and then perhaps we can talk business?”

 

.::. _C_ .::.

  

“Clarke, are you alone and decent?”

 I sighed and tightened my ponytail, “Yeah!” I called around the comb between my teeth.

 “Makes a change.” Octavia commented as she pushed open the door, leaning against the frame, “I hope you’re prepared for the things I have in store for you. I’m going to doll you up to look so fucking irresistible that you’ll want to sleep with yourself.”

 “Well, somebody’s got to fancy me, I suppose.” I shrugged, after I’d taken the comb out of my mouth, “Might as well be me.”

 “That’s the spirit.” She grinned, “Now, hurry up and brush your hair so I can get started.”

 “Well, I’d be a lot faster if you weren’t here distracting me.”

 Octavia rolled her eyes, “Alright, pissy pants.”

 “Go on. Out my room, stalker.” I smirked, nudging the door closed behind her with my toe.

 Once I’d done the bare essentials to my appearance, Octavia wasted no time in swooping in to finish the rest. True to her word, she delivered.

 I’d let her take charge of choosing my dress, selecting the exact shade of eyeshadow to match, and what to drink beforehand so I didn’t get nervous… or nasty.

 “God, I’m good.” My housemate stood back to admire her handiwork, “You really ought to start paying me.”

 “Oh, yeah with all that money I have…” I scoffed, readjusting my breasts so they were happy and comfortable.

 “You’re a doctor, Clarke. Christ. You should be rolling in it!” Octavia tossed back a shot just as Bellamy let himself into the flat, Lincoln following him in.

 “A junior doctor. So, the only thing I’m rolling in his debt…” I corrected, as Bellamy glanced me up and down with a smirk.

 “Putting out for someone, Princess?” He pointedly looked away as Octavia locked her legs around Lincoln’s waist, claiming his lips immediately with her own.

 “Only you, of course.” I teased, standing up and passing him my glass of O’s special. He took it from me and knocked it back in one go, as I’d expected he would, before he scooped me up in his arms. A giggle left my lips and I ruffled his hair playfully.

 “Planning on pulling any sluts tonight?” I asked as he lowered me down, his smirk widening.

 “Only you, of course.” He mimicked.

 That earned him a thump on the arm – albeit a half-hearted one.

 “Oh, stop flirting and get a room you two.” Octavia chastised, rolling her eyes; she always displayed strong signs of discomfort whenever Bellamy and I exchanged anything that breached her familial boundaries. Presumably since I was like her sister, and Bel was her brother… our natural banter with each other would likely always unsettle her.

 “Said Octavia whilst wrapped intimately around her exclusive fuck buddy.” I returned, evoking an eye-roll from her and a grimace from Bellamy, as Lincoln placed her back on her feet.

 I assumed that, judging by his vacant expression, he was currently reliving his duties as her exclusive fuck-buddy.

 I wasn’t the only one who caught on either.

 “Lincoln, stop picturing whatever it is you’re picturing.” Bellamy muttered, distracting himself by measuring out a shot – no, wait. Three shots.

 Before he could knock back the third, I swiftly stole it from his fingertips, “Thoughtful, Bel.” I smirked, swallowing it before he could protest, “Thanks.”

 “Thief.” He grumbled, helping himself to another.

 “So, we’re all ready to go then?” Octavia asked after she’d planted an affectionate kiss to her boyfriend’s cheek.

 Bellamy nodded and draped an arm around my shoulders as we headed out the door. The alcohol from pre-drinking hit my bloodstream as soon as the evening air poured into my lungs. And, for the first time in weeks, I felt okay.

 

.::. _L_.::.

 

 “So, let me check I understand you properly. In return for my services, you’ll provide me with protection, a considerable amount of money, _and_ allow me to use your resources as and when I need them to take down my mother’s businesses?”

 I listened to Roan’s summary of my offer and inclined my head once.

 “Well, it does sound like a no-brainer.”

 He was absolutely correct. It was a no-brainer. Roan was in no position to refuse my offer. Quite literally. If he refused, he was highly unlikely to make it out of my club alive. Without a brain still in his skull.

 “I suppose my reservations are based on what my services to you require.”

 It made sense that Roan would want some sort of job description from me, and I had no qualms in laying them out for him.

 “Firstly, you will consent to give me an agreeable percentage of the direct profits you make once you have taken control of the businesses and allow me to co-manage them with you. Secondly, you will execute any task I give to you without question. I may never need your assistance, but I need to know that you’ll be available to me as and when I ask you to be.” I knew this was a vague prerequisite, but it was a necessary one. I had to feel secure that he would follow my orders at will, “Thirdly, you will actively seek to protect those in my charge – including employees, clients, and those close to me. When you take care of us, we take care of you.”

 Roan acknowledged my conditions and extended a hand towards me.

 “I might add that any breach of these terms will result in the immediate expiry of our agreement.”

 “And my life, I presume.”

 Well, at least he wasn’t as thick as he looked.

 “Your life is the agreement.” I glanced down at his outstretched arm. I rarely shook hands with people. I never trusted that they wouldn’t use that very same hand to stab me in the back should the opportunity ever arise, “We don’t need to shake on it. I trust that you will keep your word.”

 He retracted his hand and flexed his fingers, “May I get those terms in writing? And perhaps in a little more detail?”

 I raised an eyebrow. It was risky. It wasn’t the sort of suit to take to a law firm should something go wrong. Fortunately, that wasn’t too much of an issue for me. I had my own lawyer who I found I could rely on to get me out of almost any tight spot. So, I humoured him anyway, “Yes. I’ll have it sent to you as soon as convenient. I’ll need an address to send it to. You can give it to Indra as she sees you out.”

 As I watched him leave, I wondered whether I had made the right decision. I couldn’t really afford to lose allies at this point and the more people I had on my side, the better. Just as I was about to resume my people-watching, Nyko signalled to me from the doors, tersely.

 Something was wrong.

 I could feel my body gearing up to crack a skull (most likely Roan’s) as I swept down the stairs.

 “There’s something you may need to see, ma’am.” Nyko allowed me out of the private exit and pointed further up the street where I could see Roan engaged in a furious fist fight with four other males underneath the streetlights.

 “Who–”

 I cut myself short. There was somebody else there I recognised. Somebody whose presence rendered me almost speechless; right from the top of her blonde head all the way down to her delicate feet.

 I didn’t even consider fighting the impulse to move towards her, but Indra caught my shoulder before I could take another step, “Don’t.”

 I spun to face her, “Let me go.” I commanded, my fists clenched.

 “She’s not in danger, but she may be if you go to her.”

 My pulse thudded loudly in my ears, near enough blocking out the reason behind Indra’s words, “What?”

 Calmly, Nyko took his place beside me, “It looked like she was trying to break up a fight between her friend and one of the men. It took a nasty turn but Roan said he felt it would get him in your good graces if he was to step in.”

 “Why would I be the one to put her in danger?” I asked, my patience completely dissolved.

 “We overheard them say your name.”

 It was as if somebody had punched me squarely in the back, knocking the wind out of my lungs. This was exactly what I had been trying to prevent – and now, none of it mattered. Because I had been reckless and foolish, Clarke was now in more danger than ever. She looked up at the sound of approaching sirens with wide eyes and grabbed the arm of her tall friend, pulling him away. As the police started closing in on the scene, Clarke and her group faded away into the crowd.

 I couldn’t watch her go.

 Not again.

 I shoved my way between Indra and Nyko, quickly disappearing in the flood of bodies all craning their necks to watch the drama unfold. I stuck to the side of the road, releasing my hair to shadow my face. I couldn’t run the risk of being recognised. Despite my efforts to stay hot on her trail, I felt her slipping faster and faster through my fingertips.

 Then, before I could stop her, she was gone.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clarke spends a night on the town, learning just how deeply endangered and affected she remains. She learns there is more at play than what meets the eye when she stumbles upon a charming stranger in the bar. Lexa finds herself overthrown by the instinct to ensure Clarke's safety.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much to the wonderful thoughts you've each left on this piece of fiction. I've read each of your comments and find myself incredibly grateful for your motivating words. 
> 
> This chapter is a little shorter than the others, but I hope you still find it fulfilling. I will attempt to keep my updates as regular as possible for all your Clexa needs.
> 
> Enjoy, and please don't forget to leave me with your opinions/critique.
> 
> Lady Of Cythera  
> xox

.::. _C_.::.

 

 We’d spent the first part of the night ambling in and out of pubs, each new destination bringing us new means to get more and more intoxicated. I was at the stage now where I was probably just climbing up to my peak. I was halfway between pleasantly tipsy and happily drunk. Octavia had somehow managed to convince Lincoln to join her in singing a (terrible) rendition of Whitney Houston at the Karaoke stage whilst Bellamy and I offered our support in cheering them on from the front.

 It was a disastrous performance, but the surrounding population were just as into it as both Octavia and Lincoln.

 “They could be the next new sensation.”

 I glanced to my left and saw a gentleman leaning in towards me, wearing a small smile.

 “I’d buy tickets to all their shows.” I nodded, clapping my hands together a little off-rhythm as he caught my eye. It wasn’t that I found him particularly attractive – in fact his face had a sort of squashed look about it, but there was a pleasantness in his demeanour that sparked my attention.

 “If you ever needed a plus one…” He grinned, running a hand through his mop of brown hair.

 “You’ll be the first to know.”

 He laughed, placing his hands in his trouser pockets. I regarded his appearance for the first time, finding him a little overdressed for the location in his three piece Armani suit.

 “You sure you’re in the right place?” I asked him, holding onto the tip of his silky tie and running my thumb over the material, lightly.

 He glanced down at my hand before I let it drop to my side once more, “I’m not really from around this side of town. But, I suppose I could’ve ended up in a worse place with worse company. Do you have any suggestions as to where I might go instead?”

 I shrugged, “We started at the bottom of the street and just seemed to work our way up. If you keep following the road upwards, you’ll get to the classier clubs. That is, if you’re looking for that sort of thing.”

 He held my eyes for a moment longer, a placated smile pulling at his lips, “I wasn’t looking for anything in particular. But, I can’t complain about what I found.”

 “Smooth.” I raised an eyebrow, letting him know I was onto him, “You definitely rehearsed that one.”

 “You got me.”

 Octavia and Lincoln returned to us once their number had finished, laughing freely, “See? Told you we could do it, Linc.”

 “What a wonderful performance it was.” I congratulated, “I think my eardrums might never recover, but that’s probably a good thing if you’re going to be doing more of that.”

 Octavia bumped my hip with hers, catching sight of the gentleman beside me, obviously waiting for me to introduce him.

 “Oh, this is…” I held a hand towards the suited male and bit my lip, “… uh, who are you?”

 “Cage.”

 “Kane?” Octavia attempted to repeat what she’d heard, tilting her head forwards to try and hear him better over the next Karaoke act.

 “Cage.” He spoke again, but a little louder this time, “You know… like a prison? Cage.”

 Octavia nodded, “Cage. Fascinating.” She side-eyed me with a significant look. She’d been trying to get me with somebody (anybody) all evening. I could also tell she was dying to make some kind of joke about it.

 “Maybe he could imprison you.” She whispered by my ear, just loud enough for me to hear.

 Called it.

 “Do you smoke?” He asked me, pulling out a packet of cigarettes from his pocket – of course, they would be the posh kind. The kind of brand I couldn’t even pronounce.

 “Only menthol. I’m picky.” I told him, “Bel, do you want one?”

 He shook his head after receiving a conspicuous elbow to his ribs from his sister, “Oh, no. I’m alright. I need to… piss. I’ll join you outside in a few.”

 I nodded and turned to head out onto the street with Cage at my side.

 “So, you go out often?” He asked, lighting the tip of my cigarette for me.

 I shrugged, “Not so much anymore. I used to.”

 “I heard about a club… somewhere near here. Supposed to be good. You ever been to Polis?”

 “Actually, yes. I have.”

 “Verdict?”

 I gave him an honest answer; despite _my_ ties with the place, I was certain that Cage would probably fit right in there with his exquisite style.

 “Well, let’s just say it was a night I’ll not be likely to forget in a hurry. It’s good. I’m sure you’d like it, actually. You have to get on the guest list first, though. It’s sort of an exclusive invite-only club.” I explained, taking a drag of my cigarette and exhaling the smoke out in front of me, “You can probably see it from here, in fact.”

 I waved my hand in yonder direction. But, he barely took his eyes off me.

 “So, you got into an exclusive club, then? Think you could get us a spot on that guest list tonight?”

 I shook my head, “It’s not really my scene. I don’t really get on that well with the people there.”

 “But, you think I would?” He seemed amused.

 I felt my cheeks colour a little, “I didn’t mean it like that. I just… I don’t know, you seem like you’d get on well with most people.”

 “Why, don’t you?” He cocked his head to one side, flicking the ash from his cigarette to the floor.

 “I have a bit of history with someone there, that’s all. I’d just rather avoid it.”

 He laughed, quietly, “I’m sensing gossip. I’m a good listener, you know. You can tell me all about her.”

 “Well, she just–” I stopped myself short, a small frown tugging at my lips, “Actually… I never said it was a woman.”

 Cage’s smile seemed to freeze in place, “Call it intuition, I guess.”

 That wasn’t what I’d call it.

 Slowly, I raised my cigarette back to my lips, “So, who are you here with, anyway?”

 “I’m with a few of the guys from work.” He gestured behind me and I turned to see a small group of men all crowded around the entrance to the bar, “Want me to introduce them to you?”

 The uneasiness clawed at my stomach, and I had the sudden urge to leave. Somehow, I managed to stay where I was, fixing a calm smile on my face, “Oh, that’s okay. I’m terrible at remembering names. I’d only embarrass myself.”

 “Call them what you like. I do.” Cage moved a step closer, “So, you were saying about Polis?”

 I reached into my purse and unlocked my phone, “Nothing much, really. I only went there once.”

 His eyes fell to my phone, “I’m not boring you, am I?”

 “No, not at all.” I continued to smile forcefully, sending a text as brief as I could to Bellamy to get him to come outside, “I’m just getting ready for another drink, I think.”

 “Maybe you could come and have one with us?” Cage suggested, amiably, “I think we’re ready to move on from here.”

 A couple of his ‘friends’ edged closer to me and I felt a hand ghost over my spine.

 No.

 “To be honest, I’d rather not.” I turned to face the man whose hand found itself pushing me forwards a step, “ _Don’t_ touch me.”

 He grinned at me, but his expression was cold, “You just looked like you needed a little encouragement.”

 “I promise, we don’t bite.” One of Cage’s other companions stepped forwards, eyeing me steadily.

 Maybe they didn’t. But, I did.

 “Everything okay?” I had never been quite so relieved to hear Bellamy’s voice.

 I shoved the man’s arm out of my path and went to stand beside him, “I think we ought to get out of here.”

 “Clarke.” Cage reached out for my arm, “Don’t walk away. You’ve got some information we need.”

 Bellamy wasted no time in knocking him backwards, standing protectively in front of me “Fuck off, man.”

 “Don’t make this harder than it needs to be. Tell me what you know about Lexa and we’ll be on our way.”

 I felt my fists clench at the name, “I wish people would stop _fucking_ coming to me about her. I probably know less than you do!”

 “Probably not. Weren’t you a pet of hers?”

 “I wasn’t anything to her.” I craned my neck over Bellamy’s shoulder, “If you want to know so much about Lexa, then why don’t you just go and fucking ask her yourself?”

 It surprised me how rapidly Cage’s warmth frosted, and I wrapped a hand around Bellamy’s wrist, “Bel, come on. Let’s tell security.”

 It became transparent that there were no bouncers in sight. Cage must’ve paid them off in advance.

 “Nah.” He shook his head, steeling himself up for a fight, “This slick git took care of them already. You think tossing your money around is going to keep you out of trouble?”

 “Well, I mean it has so far. I see no reason why now is any different.”

 “Hm. In that case, maybe you could tell me how a hundred dollar bill is going to stop me from doing this…” He snapped back his arm and released his power into one cracking punch. It collided sharply with Cage’s jaw, and he stumbled backwards several steps. After that, it was hard to see who was hitting who. I watched Lincoln materialise beside Bellamy, throwing his weight into one of Cage’s pals and knocking him to the ground.

 “Clarke, what the hell is going on?” Octavia grabbed onto my waist and pulled me to her side, her gaze suddenly landing on her brother and her boyfriend in the thick of the fight, “Oh, my god. Are they serious?”

 “Cage. He’s after Lexa… Thought I had dirt on her.” That was when I noticed Cage’s loud absence from the party, “Oh, and look at that. He’s gone.”

 A flurry of people gathered around the commotion. I was about to step in and grab Bellamy when a powerfully-built man blocked my path, his fist colliding with somebody’s skull with a sickening crunch.

 He glanced at me over his shoulder, “Get out of here.” He urged me, “I’ll handle this.”

  _Sure, okay, mysterious muscly man._

 I didn’t know who this guy was, but I wasn’t about to stop him from fending off Cage’s men. I dived towards Bellamy and yanked him out of the way, “Bel, I can hear sirens. We need to get out of here. Grab Lincoln and let’s go.”

 At least he wasn’t too inebriated to think he could finish the fight _and_ evade the police at the same time. He nodded and signalled to Lincoln, who quickly dropped the man he was currently gripping in a headlock, and joined us away from the scene.

 We managed our getaway more or less unscathed. The boys had a couple of minor grazes, but nothing that couldn’t be numbed with a cocktail or two. We filtered into the nearest pub and secured ourselves a rustic booth at the back of the room, Octavia and I going to fetch a couple of pitchers from the bar.

 “You always make it an interesting night, don’t you?” My housemate smirked, resting her elbows on the counter.

 “I aim to please.” I rolled my eyes, “Are you okay?”

 She nodded, “The boys got pretty lucky that they didn’t get hurt, and you got pretty lucky that you didn’t get abducted. So… yeah, I’m fine. But, are _you_ okay?”

 Chewing thoughtfully on my lower lip, I examined the cocktail menu and made my selection before turning back to Octavia, “I just… can’t seem to escape her. It’s like, I know I need to move on, but I… I can’t. Not with all this going on.”

 “Are you worried about her?” Octavia cocked her head to one side.

I released a humourless laugh, “Worried about her? No. She can take care of herself quite easily. And, well, even if she couldn’t, she has other people who can. I’m just more pissed off at her than anything else. I mean, the reason we stopped talking – well, fucking – was because she was worried it would put me in danger. Allegedly. I just think she was scared that I would learn too much about her and that put her in a position of vulnerability. Like I would have time to plot against her behind her back. I barely even have time to sleep, let alone plan her demise.”

 It wasn’t a total lie. I wasn’t worried about her, as such. It was just hard not to feel my stomach knot at the thought of her getting hurt. Harder still knowing that maybe I could be the one to stop it.

 Octavia snorted, “You really do have terrible taste.”

   “Isn’t that the truth?” I muttered, reaching out for the pitchers and taking them back over to the booth, sliding in beside Bellamy.

 “You okay, Princess?” He nudged my arm lightly and I offered him a smile.

 “Thanks to you guys, yeah.” I served out the cocktails and leaned back into my seat, trying not to let my thoughts stray back to Lexa.

 I wasn’t taken aback by my own inability to do so, however. How could I not think about her? It seemed she was determined to remain a permanent fixture in my head, right from the sharpness of her pale gaze to her quick wit… and her infuriating knack of putting my life in constant peril.

 I couldn’t help but wonder if she had any idea what she was doing to me. Even after all this time.

 I knocked back the rest of my drink and rose to my feet, “I’m going out for a smoke.”

 Bellamy frowned, obviously averse to the idea of me being on my own, “I’ll come with you.”

 Shaking my head, I squeezed his shoulder, lightly, “No, it’s okay. I could use a minute. If I’m longer than ten, you can send out a search party. I imagine the police have sorted things out now, anyway.”

 “Just keep your phone on you, Clarke.” Octavia told me, trying hard to conceal her concern, “We don’t want any more Cage-like-characters trying to sweep you off your feet.”

 “Stranger danger. Got it.” I smiled, pulling out a cigarette and weaving through the crowds to get to the exit. I walked to the edge of the smoking area, leaning back against the barriers and letting my eyes close for a moment as the nicotine hit my lungs.

 Despite the thought of her, I still managed to enjoy the rest of the night as best I could. None of us felt like moving on to any of the bigger clubs. We wanted to live out the rest of the night in peace. Once I’d returned inside and helped the others to polish off the cocktail pitchers, we collectively decided to call it a night and head back home.

 “Are you not stopping at Lincoln’s tonight?” I asked Octavia as she leaned over to press a farewell kiss to his lips.

 She shrugged, “I don’t want to leave you alone tonight.”

 “Don’t be daft.” I bumped her hip with mine, “Get your ass to his. I’ll be fine.”

 Conflicted, she creased her eyebrows, “Clarke, I don’t want anything to happen to you.”

 “Scared you’ll miss out on the drama?” I teased, but it didn’t seem to make her feel any better, “Look, I’ll be fine. I promise. I’ll feel bad if you change your plans for me. And then I’ll get pissed off at you for making me feel bad, so…”

 “Still…” She shrugged, “I wouldn’t forgive myself if anything did happen and I wasn’t there to help you kick some ass.”

 I was shaking my head already, “O, go to Lincoln’s. Please. I’ll call you in the morning. Promise.”

 Finally, she submitted and dragged me into a hug, “You phone me if you hear so much as a bump.”

 “I will.”

 I said my goodbyes and slid into the nearest taxi, giving the driver my address and leaning back into the seat, the exhaustion creeping over my limbs.

 Once I’d paid the fayre and closed the door behind me, I retrieved another cigarette from my purse, lighting up the end and leaning against the front wall to the apartment complex.

I’d barely taken two drags before I heard my name. At first, I thought I’d imagined it, so I proceeded to ignore the voice – perhaps I was finally cracking up. But, then I heard it again, this time with a sense of urgency.

 “Clarke?”

 My eyes fluttered open as I sought out the source. I saw nobody within my immediate proximity and knocked myself a step forwards away from the wall, lowering my cigarette to level with my hip. I felt the pressure on my left wrist before I registered it to be somebody’s hand. The leftover adrenaline in my system sparked me into action, and I twisted my body around, pushing the ignited end of my cigarette into the perpetrator’s knuckle.

 The hand released me suddenly, and I swerved myself to face whomever it belonged to, preparing myself to either apologise profusely to the person, or slap them. What I hadn’t taken into account was that the human I would find myself facing would make every single one of my defences yield.

 I met the pale green stare with ambivalence, my body reacting to her presence before my mind could.

 Instantly, my heart juddered, my skin setting ablaze as my knees fought the impulse to crumble.

 She flexed her fingers, briefly glancing down at the circle of ash on her skin in curiosity. If she was in pain, she didn’t show it.

 I couldn’t bring myself to speak; there was far too much I wanted to say and not enough words to say them.

 I knew Lexa wouldn’t be in any hurry to bring an end to the silence. The longer I looked at her, the more I wished I’d done a little more than just burn her with my cigarette.

 “I didn’t mean to startle you. I’ve been waiting here for a while.”

 It took a moment for me to process her statement, and I knew my face must’ve looked a picture as I tried to decode the syllables leaving her lips. I hated how calm she was. I hated how naturally she settled herself within my personal space. And I _hated_ how good she looked.

 “You…” I trailed away, “What?”

 “I saw what happened.” She continued, folding her hands behind her back in a diplomatic fashion, “I was worried something may have gone wrong for you, so I came to find you. I needed to know that you were safe.”

 “Are… are you serious?” I slowly found my voice, relenting the control of my mouth over to the building rage within me. Before she could open her mouth to speak again, I clenched my fists and shoved her chest, my cigarette falling to the floor, “Really? You _needed_ to know I was safe?”

 She barely budged, “Clarke, I understand you must be upset with me–”

 “–Upset? You think I’m _upset_? Do you have any _idea_ the shit you’ve put me through?” I pushed my face close to hers, so close that I could have counted every single one of her eyelashes, “Sending your henchwoman to try bully me for information at the place where I work? Getting me involved in your stupid shit and putting my life at risk? Yeah, you could say I’m a tad fucking upset with you. Or, maybe you might even go as far to say I’m pissed at you. And, if you’re feeling particularly lucky, you might go all out and say I am furious with you. Take your pick.”

 She watched me, her chest rising and falling with each measured breath she took, but she didn’t flinch. Not once. She never did. Her nihilism was hard to kill. Once I had done talking, she pressed her lips together gently, her gaze weighing heavily on mine, “Clarke, I never meant for this to happen.”

 “Well, it did. The only reason you’re here now is because you’re afraid I’ll turn against you. Or because you want information from me. Don’t come to me under false pretences, claiming to care about my safety when I know exactly why you’re here. So, if I were you, I’d be thinking seriously about fucking off around about now. Because I’m really not in the goddamn mood.”

 Regarding me steadily, Lexa waited for me to finish speaking before she murmured, her tone hauntingly soft, “I’m not here for that, Clarke.”

 “You’re not? Right. Okay. Why are you here, then?” I demanded, “If you’re not here to get information out of me, or to silence me, then what the fuck are you here for? Why now?”

 Lexa paced herself, breaking her gaze from mine for a second as she attempted to compose her next sentence, “I’m here because I made a mistake. I thought me letting you go would keep you safe. I was wrong. I put you in danger long before any of this. The moment I sought you out was when I put a target on your back.”

 “Oh, great. Wonderful. That makes me feel tonnes better.” I muttered, folding my arms beneath my breast, determined not to let her ease down my guard any more than she already had.

 “I don’t expect your forgiveness, Clarke. The damage has already been done and I cannot put that right. But, please believe me when I say that I had my reasons for doing what I did. For pushing you away.”

 “Don’t trouble yourself. I do believe you, Lexa. I know you had your reasons. It’s just that you want me to believe that those reasons are something different than the truth. You know, I would have preferred you to come here and beat the information out of me. That would’ve at least made more sense. Just tell me why you’re really here so I don’t need to be here for any longer than necessary.”

 If Lexa was anything, she was patient. And terrifying. For a quiet, painfully long minute, she said nothing. This time, I didn’t want to be the one to break the silence. Eventually, she filled the thick void with as much honesty as she could muster.

 “I… I don’t know. I saw you in the street and I couldn’t watch you leave. Not again.”

 “You make it sound like it was my idea to leave in the first place! Are you forgetting how that night really went? You let me see you, Lexa. You _wanted_ me to see you. Then, the second shit got real, you pushed me away. That’s on you. I can’t believe I was willing to stay. I would have, you know. I’d have stayed for you.” I felt my throat close, my larynx desperately trying to suffocate whatever words I would say next, “I never asked for any of this. I never asked for your commitment. I wouldn’t have dreamed of it. I would never force you to open up to me. I get that maybe you weren’t ready, but you were the one who asked me _not_ to tease you… you wanted me to get to know you.” I shook my head in disbelief, “And I respected you enough to see you through that godawful night. Yet, you rejected me. For what? For my safety? Fat lot of good that’s done me, hasn’t it?”

 She absorbed everything I said. Every word. Every breath. The intensity of her gaze almost ruined my self-resolve to the point where I could hardly look at her without feeling as though I was gasping for air.

 “I couldn’t have asked that of you. How could I? As you say, there were no expectations between us. You didn’t want anything serious from the start. The things you saw that night would have been enough to make any normal person sick to their stomach.”

 I tilted my head to one side, my countenance hardening considerably, “In case it’s escaped your notice – which I’m sure it hasn’t – I’m not normal, Lexa. I never have been. If I was, you’d have never glanced my way.”

 Her gaze lingered on mine, unashamed, “I never glanced, Clarke. From the moment I saw you, I could hardly look away.”

 Be that as it may, she did look away. When she cut me off. 

 “Saying that, normal or not, I would have betrayed my values had I let you stay.” Lexa continued, her expression informing me very little of her thoughts.

 “Values?” I laughed, but it was hollow, “You’re going to stand there and preach to me about values?”

 “I know better than to preach to you about anything, Clarke. You may think I have no morals. To a point, maybe you’re right. But, I swear that the last thing I wanted to do was hurt you.”

 I was becoming gradually more aware of the ache in my legs and the pounding in my head, “Look, I can’t do this right now. You came to see if I was safe and here I am in the flesh. All safe and sound. Disaster averted. You and your values can sleep easy, now.”

 I turned away from her, reaching for my key fob, acutely aware that she was still very much there.

 “Clarke, I understand you want to be left alone. I just hope that one day you will let me explain myself properly to you.”

 “I see.” I pushed open the door to the flats and glanced at her over my left shoulder, “When is ‘one day’, Lexa? In another two months? A year from now?”

 “You would let it be sooner?” She arched an eyebrow with precision.

 “I don’t… I don’t know.”

 I couldn’t continuously put myself through this cycle with her. Whatever her reasons were for sending me away, good intentions or not, I couldn’t trust that she wouldn’t do it again.

 “I understand.” She inclined her head, “I betrayed your confidence and I have a lot to prove before I can even hope to restore it. But,” she glided gracefully forwards, her body poising itself before me, “if you give me the opportunity, I swear I will try.”

 Somehow, the sincerity in her tone unnerved me. She’d uttered the promise so surely that I could hardly doubt her intent. Dumbly, I opened my lips and found all I could do was exhale, sharply.

 Eventually, once I’d managed to find my voice, I turned to face her, my foot still propping open the door, “Why?”

 I saw a trace of something behind her eyes. Sadness, maybe.

 Regret?

 “Be honest with me.” I didn’t want to beg. But, the request left my lips as a plea. Underlying desperation.  

 She inhaled slowly, unblinking, “Because I never should have let you go, Clarke.”

 Her words punched straight through my stomach, leaving me breathless once again. How was it possible for her to still affect me this deeply? Even now, after all this time, she possessed the capability of destroying my defences. My defences were really all I’d had left.

 “It has haunted me every single day since.” She whispered.

 I stared at her. At the way she tried to grasp tightly onto her composure. Like it was all _she_ had left.

 “I’m not supposed to form real attachments. I’m not supposed to let myself get too close to people. It’s dangerous for the business and, more importantly, it’s dangerous for the other person.”

 I saw the flicker of her gaze; the uncertainty and fear. The hunger and want. The loss. The hope.

 When all I could do was watch her, she continued, “And I am selfish to want you, Clarke.” Her breath trembled somewhere in the cavity of her chest, “I thought pushing you away would keep you safe. Keep you apart from all this. But, it didn’t. I failed. The only thing I accomplished was hurting you, and that was exactly the one thing I tried so hard to avoid.”

 There was a veiled torment behind the pale green cloak of her gaze. She fought to keep herself controlled, but I had already caught the cracks opening in her demeanour – a foundation typically so solid and unbreakable.

 “So, tell me why you’re really here.” My breathing was shallow, my windpipe constricted.

 Lexa jutted out her jaw, and I knew she was struggling. Words had never come easily to her.

 “Because I’m sorry.”

 It hung in the air. Right between us.

 I’d never heard her apologise with sincerity. To anybody. For anything. And that was it. Her mask had shattered. She stared at me now, wide open. Vulnerable.

 I could feel my chin weaken, the onslaught of memories striking me relentlessly. Despite the fact we had kept each other at a distance, I felt like I knew her. And I felt like she knew me. Or at least, we knew more than we were supposed to know about the other. It had been intense from the start, as my relationships usually were, but they were nothing compared to this.

 “Tell me now if there is no possibility of me ever making this right. Tell me, and I will go. I will keep away from you.” Lexa regained her footing, her shoulders squaring out as if preparing for a lethal blow.

 I said nothing.

 I couldn’t.

 I didn’t know what I wanted. I didn’t have the faintest indication. All I knew was that my lips wouldn’t open. Wouldn’t send her away.

 She waited, exercising her unending patience. When I gave her no verbal response, she inclined her head, “I will leave you to rest.”

 She folded her hands behind her back, holding her posture perfectly as she prepared to leave.

 “Lexa, wait.”

 She hesitated, her eyes sliding through the darkness to meet mine.

 “Look, this is a lot to process. You realise that?” I tilted my head back against the door, “I’m still angry. And I still don’t know what to believe.”

 She didn’t say anything, but I knew she was listening. She always was.

 “I’m going to need a little time.”

 “Of course. Whatever you need.”

 “Right.” I drummed my fingers against my thigh, “I’m going to bed.”

 “Goodnight, Clarke.” She bowed her head courteously, maintaining her goddamn formalities right up until the point that the door closed behind me.

  I headed back up to my apartment, lighting up a joint once I reached my bedroom.

 What the fuck had just happened?

 I messaged Octavia to let her know I was home safe and leaned back against the headboard, kicking my legs up onto the mattress.

 Had she meant it? Maybe. I reasoned she couldn’t have gone to all the effort of chasing me down just for another quick fuck.

 For one, she’d have known I wouldn’t yield that easily.

 For two, she was literally crawling in thirsty females. She could’ve handpicked any of them, or at least started from the top of the list and worked her way down every night. That would keep her occupied for the next year or two…

 It didn’t feel real.

 Of course, the weed didn’t really put anything into a helpful perspective. It was just the only thing keeping me calm right then. I felt the cool air circulate my bedroom through the window and I closed my eyes, tilting my head backwards.

 That didn’t help either.

 How could it, when all I saw behind my eyelids was a pale green stare?


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Following Lexa and Clarke's confrontational exchange, a week has passed and Clarke wakes up to an unexpected surprise.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for your wonderful thoughts and comments. They really do inspire.  
> Please, indulge yourselves and enjoy.
> 
> Lady Of Cythera  
> xox

.::. _C_.::.

 

“ _Clarke?_ ”

 When I opened my eyes, my body was a dead weight against the mattress. I felt sluggish and unsettled. By the way the sun broke into my room through the gaps in the curtains, I assumed it was a little later than midday. Ideally, I would’ve appreciated a little longer in the depths of the unknown.

 My bedroom door opened and Octavia pushed her way inside, stepping over the work attire I’d discarded on the carpet, “Rise and shine, Griffin. There’s something here you’ll want to see.”

 She looked far too fresh and, well, awake for my liking.

 I tried to say something, but I was highly unsuccessful. Instead I shoved myself into a half-upright position and blinked at her, mumbling something vaguely incoherent.

 “You’ve got a letter.”

  _Really?_

 “You woke me up for that?” I muttered, reaching forwards blindly until she put the paper in my hand.

 Octavia dropped down onto the end of the bed and folded her legs beneath her, “Yes. I know you’ve been on nights and you want to end my life for waking you, but there’s time for that later. Somebody came by this morning for you…” She began cautiously.

 I was a little slow to respond, so Octavia enlightened me, impatiently, “Lexa. She insisted that I didn’t wake you up, but asked me to give you this. So, obviously, I just _had_ to wake you up.”

 My vision was still a little foggy as I glanced down at the thick paper in my fingers. It had been sealed with crimson wax, some sort of emblem embedded into it. As I looked closer, it appeared to be a tree design of some description. An elm, maybe.

 Carefully, I ran my finger over the hard wax and shifted my attention back up to Octavia, “Did she say anything else?” I asked.

 “This is Lexa we’re talking about. She said very little, to be honest. ‘Hello, Octavia. I apologise for imposing. Will you see that Clarke gets this?’ I was shaken up that she even remembered my name. I don’t really recall that I said anything back to her, such was my surprise.”

 I had to admit, Octavia near enough nailed the impression – it made me feel slightly unwell to watch.

 “That’s quite an impressive amount of words for her.” I forced a small laugh.

 “Anyway, I suppose I’ll let you read the letter in peace… but I do want you to tell me absolutely everything the second you’re done.”

 I observed the way she’d written my name in black ink on the front of the letter. Of course her penmanship put mine to shame. But, then, I supposed I was a doctor. We weren’t renowned for our handwriting. Or, rather, quite the opposite.

 “I think I’m going to need some coffee.” I placed the paper on my pillow and shuffled to the edge of my bed, only to find Octavia holding up an authoritative hand.

 “I’ll get it. I can’t wait any longer to find out what she’s said. You just get to reading that, please.”

 Inwardly, I groaned to myself, staring at the letter in conflict. I wasn’t sure I was ready to read it right then. But, if I didn’t, then Octavia would – and I imagined I would prefer to be the first.

 Carefully, I broke the wax sealing and unfolded the thick paper, waiting until she had left before I commenced reading.

 

  _‘Clarke,_

_‘Despite appearances, I have never found it easy to articulate my thoughts into words. On the contrary in fact, I was always taught from a young age that it was seen as weakness to openly expose my feelings. I have found this to be both a blessing and a curse. I only ask you to be patient when reading this. My design in writing this letter is that you may come to understand a little more about me and the choices I made, without being put through the awkward ordeal of watching me fumble to find the right words. Perhaps that will be entertainment for another time.’_

 I paused for a moment, rereading the first paragraph back to myself. Part of me found her way with words highly peculiar – it was as if she’d thought each sentence through with a great amount of care, and I could almost see her torturously critiquing herself as to whether she’d selected the right term. I supposed she was particularly formal in her way of speaking, and writing, because she’d been taught not to let her feelings overcome her. She wrote with such exactitude that it left me feeling half amused and half impressed.

 

_‘I know I put you in an uncomfortable position a week ago when I turned up unprecedented at your home, but that was never my intention. Truthfully, I did want to know you were safe. The thought of something bad happening to you on any account is a painful one, but the possibility that something bad could happen to you because of me and my mistakes is unthinkable. I’ve been thinking about the things you said to me. I want to make something clear to start with. I never sent Indra to you at the hospital. I had no idea until she told me afterwards that she had approached you. I can assure you, I did not condone this behaviour from her, and I can only apologise for her putting you in such a difficult situation. I’m certain you’ll be angry at me for what I’m about to tell you, but I’m no stranger to your anger or your passion, so I feel it will be a worthy risk to take. In response to Indra’s action, I have ensured that I have eyes at the ER by placing some of my employees as part of the hospital security. This is a measure to make sure you are kept safe. Any dealings we have with the ER will not involve you in the future.’_

 I blinked, running my eyes over the sentence once more. Perhaps I was angry at this. She continued to make me feel weak… in so many ways. At least she acknowledged that I wouldn’t appreciate the gesture, but that didn’t make me okay with it. I waited a few moments before reading on, running a hand through my hair.

 

_‘Secondly, I want to address the evening where you visited my house. The things I said to you prior to the intrusion were true. I meant what I said. Even when I think back to that night, and I do often, I feel as though my skin is burning, right through to my centre. When I first met you, I admit I pursued you out of lust. Agonising attraction. I wanted to see you falter and tremble, and I wanted to be the cause of that. I should’ve known one night with you wasn’t enough for me. It never could be. Every time I was with you, I found you were so much more than I originally anticipated. How is it possible for somebody so strong and independent to act with such intelligence, kindness and grace? Such qualities are next to impossible to find. You captivate me and it scares me. It scares me because I wanted more with you – and I knew it was selfish of me to want that. When the attack occurred, I thought of the danger I had exposed you to. I understand I made a decision on your behalf and that wasn’t fair of me. I hope that this next part of my letter will shed some light on the reason why I conducted myself the way I did._

_‘Some years ago, when I was new to my current role, I met somebody. Her name was Costia. Despite those around me telling me not to get attached to her, I ignored them and allowed myself to grow close to her. At the time, I was being threatened by a rival organisation. I won’t bore you with the details, but essentially, they wanted revenge for something I had done and to gain control over me and my company. I ignored the threats and proceeded on with my relationship with Costia. One night, I returned home to find her dead in my bedroom. She had been killed by members of the opposing organisation. It had been staged as a burglary gone wrong. A brutal, but seemingly terrible accident. There was no paper trail. No leading evidence. The law enforcement could do nothing.’_

 

 My heart hammered hard against my chest. I could hardly continue reading. I pushed the letter to one side, leaning forwards and gripping both sides of my head. I was ashamed of myself. Deeply. I had been quick to judge Lexa – assuming that she had pushed me away out of fear for looking weak. She had pushed me away because she was terrified of reliving what had happened to Costia. Terrified that she would be responsible for another death. I saw what she’d done as a betrayal, when I couldn’t have been further from the truth. After some time, I picked the letter up once more and continued from where I left off.

 

_‘Since then, I had vowed to myself never to get attached again. I swore I would never put anybody else in that position. I have never forgiven myself for what happened and I doubt I ever will. I don’t ask for your sympathy or pity. Only for a little understanding that I never intended to hurt you. I should have never put you in this position in the first place, but I cannot bring myself to regret meeting you. I cannot regret the things we shared. My only regret is that I could not give you what I wanted to. What you deserved. If, given half the chance, I could change that then I would. In a heartbeat._

_‘I would not presume to ask anything of you, Clarke. I understand if I am never to hear from you again, and perhaps it would be for the best. I only hope that, if this is the case, you are able to continue to live your life happy and well._

_Yours,_

_Lexa’_

 “Fuck.” I stared at the letter, my face frozen in place, “ _Fuck_.”

 Octavia wasted little time in opening my door with a coffee in each hand, “What is it? Are you okay?”

 Numbly, I pushed the letter towards her as she exchanged it for one of the coffees in her hand.

 “Clarke, I won’t read this if you don’t want me to.” She eyed my expression carefully, “I don’t want to intrude.”

 I exhaled, slowly, clutching onto the mug, barely aware it was burning my fingers, “I… I don’t really know what to make of it. I’ve been an idiot, O.”

 Briefly, I explained what had transpired between us after our night out once I had arrived back to the flats, “… and I treated her so harshly. I mean, I thought she’d deserved it at the time. I had no idea about any of… well, if you read the letter, you’ll see.”

 Quietly, I sipped at my coffee, listening to Octavia’s small gasps as she scanned the contents of the paper. Some minutes later, she turned her attention back to me, “Jesus.”

 “I know. What do I do?”

 Octavia frowned, “Well, what do you want to do?”

 It was hard to say. I wasn’t certain of anything anymore. I kept replaying scenes over and over in my mind, trying to make sense of it all.

 “I don’t know. Part of me wants to tear the letter up and never think of her again… and the other part of me wants… to go to her. To see her.”

 To touch her.

 My housemate listened carefully, nodding her head, “Which part of you is speaking the loudest?”

 I hesitated, trying to push away the longing that clutched tightly at my abdomen, but I couldn’t.

 “Well, my reasonable side is speaking the loudest. If I ignore her, eventually people will stop associating me with her and then I might have a chance of being safe. But, I’ve never been very good at listening to reason.”

 Octavia glanced back at the letter, “It’s like she’s been plucked out of a British period drama novel and dropped into the wrong century. She’s different, Clarke. If you never speak to her again, won’t a part of you wonder what could have been?”

 “Always.”

 She placed the paper back down onto the bedding and leaned backwards against the headboard, “Then you should go to her. Even if it’s just for closure.”

 I wasn’t sure how attainable closure would be with Lexa. It took every ounce of my self-control to keep my hands to myself whenever I saw her. Just _thinking_ about her worked my body up in a way that I couldn’t suppress. Although, Octavia was right. I couldn’t brush her aside after she’d told me something so deeply personal about herself. I would hate for somebody to discredit me in that way, and I could hardly play a hypocrite now.

 “Thanks, O.” I didn’t bother finishing my coffee and leaned over to place the mug on my bedside table.

 “Maybe you should get some more sleep before you do anything further, though.” She told me, rising to her feet, “You’re terribly grumpy when you’re tired.”

 I laughed, dropping back into the pillows, “Like I’d be able to sleep now.”

 “Well, at least try.” She pressed a kiss atop my head and closed the door behind her on her way out.

 

.::. _L_.::.

 

 I was rarely one to question my actions. I never fritted away great amounts of time pondering over whether I had said or done the right thing. Usually, I had little use for such things. Yet, I couldn’t help but wonder if I had made a smart decision in sending the letter to Clarke. Had I divulged too much, or too little? Would she care? Would it change anything? Did I _want_ anything to change?

 I’d had the sort of day that kept me busy, mostly due to the large backlog of paperwork I’d allowed to build up. I managed to focus for long enough to reduce the workload significantly. But, the longer I sat staring at the screen, the more restless I became. To unwind, I changed into my athletic gear and released myself out into the countryside behind my house for a hard run.

 I managed to cover a lot of ground, finding myself slowing as I reached the highest peak of the hill. The sight itself was humbling. I gazed out onto the stretch of vast landscape below me, following the greenery all the way through to the outskirts of the city where the lights pulsed dimly in the twilight. As my body began to recover, I lowered myself to my knees, renewing my oxygen with the open air. It was cleansing to be in a place where I had nobody to answer to, nobody to pass judgements and nobody to make any attempts on my life. I watched the sun as it hung low in the sky. To avoid sustaining any injuries due to the darkness, I decided to head back home before it grew too dark to see where I was treading.

 Time passed quickly as I ran back through the woods at the foot of the hill, the night closing in around me faster than I’d hoped. The branches whipped over my skin as I manoeuvred through the trees, and a part of me enjoyed the soft stings of the bark. I was almost breathless as I approached the house, every muscle in my body trembling in satisfaction at the speed and distance I’d charted. Then, I just about lost my footing as my eyes landed on a car parked opposite my gates. It took me a moment to register who it belonged to, and I quickly turned at the sound of approaching footsteps, my chest still heaving from the exercise.

 Clarke walked towards me with natural confidence, a cigarette poised delicately between her lips. Her blonde hair fell over her shoulders, blue eyes fixed on me in indecision. The sight enough was to knock whatever breath I had left in my lungs out of my body. I couldn’t decipher her expression; then as she moved closer to me, exhaling smoke from her mouth, I caught the softness in her stare.

 I breathed her name inaudibly, rubbing my forearm along my forehead, every inch of me flushed and drenched from running. She grazed over my appearance, lingering just long enough to make me shift under the speculation.

 “Lexa, I…” She began, “I should have called or… or messaged you. I just – I just didn’t know what I would say.”

 Although her presence was thoroughly unexpected, I found I didn’t mind. Even if she was here to tell me she never wanted to see me again, at least I had the image of her standing before me without anger on her features one last time. I waited for her to say something further. I wasn’t sure I’d have anything useful to offer.

 “I didn’t really plan past this point. I wasn’t sure you’d even be here.” She took another drag of her cigarette and my eyes followed the motion of her lips as they expelled the smoke, “I just knew I had to see you.”

 “Do you want to come inside?” I asked, perhaps a little judiciously.

 “I’m not interrupting you or anything, am I?” She pulled her lower lip under her teeth, dropping her cigarette butt to the ground and treading it underfoot and quickly kicking it to the edge of the road.

 I shook my head, unlatching the gate and pushing it open to allow her entrance. I could smell her perfume as she walked by me into the courtyard, and it left me feeling weaker than I wanted it to.

 “Can I get you a drink? Tea?” I asked, flipping on the kettle once I had stepped into the kitchen with Clarke close behind me. She accepted, probably because it would create some kind of distraction as she attempted to gather her thoughts. As I waited for the water to boil, I gathered a towel from the downstairs bathroom to wrap around the back of my neck.

 I didn’t mind the quiet; I was comfortable with it. I knew it bothered Clarke because she hated having something to say and finding herself unable to say it. She was sitting at the high kitchen counter on one of the black bar stools, her fingers resting lightly on the marble. I set the mug down in front of her and lowered myself into the seat opposite.

 Curling her hand around the porcelain and thanking me, she edged closer to the counter, “I read your letter.” She spoke, finally, “Lexa, I’m sorry about what happened to Costia. I shouldn’t have been so callous in the things I said to you last week.”

 “You weren’t to know, Clarke.”

 “Even so. You were trying to tell me the truth.”

 I was many things, but a liar was not one of them. I couldn’t have expected Clarke to believe that at the time.

 “How did you deal with it?” Even through her husky tones, she spoke so gently that it brushed me wide open. It wasn’t something I was used to. She’d always had that way about her – she could deliver crisp demands easily, but it was her softness that left me susceptible. 

 “I shut everybody out. I focused on the things that mattered. I began to view people as a means to getting what I wanted. It worked for a while… until I met you.” I murmured, “I’m still afraid that something will happen to you because of me, Clarke.”

 She stood up and moved around to my side of the counter, taking the seat beside me. Her closeness to my body left me feeling raw.

 “I know. I understand that what you went through must have been the hardest thing you’ve ever experienced. Losing somebody is never easy. Especially if you feel as though you’re the one to blame.”

 I shifted my eyes to hers as she continued to speak.

 “But, Lexa, you can’t stop yourself from feeling out of fear that something will go wrong. Things find a way of going wrong no matter what you do. In one way or another.”

 I admired her positivity, but I found it hard to share in.

 “There are things that can be done to minimise the risks.” I returned.

 “And who are you to foresee the future? You could spend a lifetime alone, and nothing terrible would happen to you in your life. Or maybe it would. People need other people. We are built to connect with others… Life is hard enough as it is, but it’s even harder facing it alone.”

 It amazed me how Clarke could be so unafraid of speaking her mind.

 “Did you lose somebody too?” I asked, turning over the things she’d said in my head.

 She hesitated for a moment before nodding, “Yes. My father.”

 “What happened?”

 “He battled with depression for a long time and in the end, he was too tired to fight anymore. He took his life without saying goodbye.” She threaded her fingers through her hair and pushed the strands behind her ear, “I know it’s different to what happened to you. Very different. But, it hurts because I felt for a long time that he didn’t love me enough to stay. I always wonder what I could have done differently. Could I have stopped it? Could I have made myself easier to love? I don’t know… I suppose that’s something I struggle with… I worry that I’m not worth sticking around for.”

 I watched the way she pressed her lips together, casting her gaze down to the counter. I realised now why she’d been so angry with me. I’d invited her into my life just enough to make her feel welcome, and then I’d turned her away, reinforcing the idea that she wasn’t worthy of others.

 “How did _you_ deal with it?”

 This time, she looked a little angry – but I imagined it was more directed towards herself than at me, “I didn’t, really. Not well. I spent most of my time doing stupid shit while I was in those states… seeking immediate releases for how I was feeling. It’s still something I struggle with.”

 I couldn’t help but visualise it. We all had skeletons in our closets. We had all done things we weren’t proud of. She always seemed so confident and capable. It was hard to imagine her losing self-control. But, then, I supposed I’d caught glimpses of it before. She had a deep rooted passion, and I knew that if it was not tended to properly, it could turn to recklessness.

 Then, to my surprise, she sent me a sudden wry smile, “God. We’re a bit fucked up really, aren’t we?”

 It came as an even bigger shock to me when I found my own lips pulling upwards in return.

 Her eyes lowered to examine the movement of my mouth and she took a deep breath inwards, seeming to sober up once more.

 “Lexa, I should tell you… about what happened last week.” She reeled the events of the evening to me, presumably glossing over some of the finer details, “Do you recognise the name Cage?” She asked, finally.

 I felt my eyes slide closed, my stomach sinking, “Cage Wallace. Yes. I had some dealings with his father. His company specialises in pharmaceuticals and medicine. I was aware that Cage had other ideas for the company, but he was never really a threat. So, either he’s changed his father’s mind or he’s taken control of the company himself.”

 Clarke listened intently, “Do you think he was behind the attack?”

 I nodded, “Yes. Probably. But, I don’t think they intended for us to be here. They prefer to settle things without violence – to keep off the law’s radar. I had a deal with Cage’s father. The company did a lot of illegal testing and a great deal of unethical research. I have copies of this information on a memory drive. In return for my silence, they paid my organisation a large sum of money and swore to change their methods. I kept tabs on them, but evidently their new way of working wasn’t as successful. I suppose Cage wants to get rid of the incriminating evidence I have against them. The last thing they would want is for me to go public.”

 “I didn’t tell him anything.” Clarke murmured, quietly, “I mean, I didn’t know anything anyway…”

 “I wouldn’t have blamed you if you had.”

 “That’s the thing though, Lexa…” She breathed my name out in such a way that I found myself tensing in my seat, “I was angry with you. I was sure I even hated you at times. But, the thought of you getting hurt made my insides twist.”

  _Oh._

I watched her deliberating by my side for a few seconds, as though she was trying to organise her thoughts. After some moments, I decided I would finally put her out of her misery and steal the silence.

 “Perhaps I should address the elephant in the room.” I began.

 “Well, I’ve been called worse.” Clarke offered me the hints of a mischievous smile and it left my stomach clenching.

 Tilting my head at her comment, mildly amused, I decided to play the game along with her, “You? Really?”

 Clarke clicked her tongue, “I know, right? Could you imagine it?” She smirked, suddenly, “An innocent little flower such as me?”

 The impact her words had on me likely wasn’t what she’d had in mind. I considered just how inaccurate her statement was – how she was anything _but_ innocent. How I’d witnessed her dark side on multiple occasions and how I longed to witness it again.

 “I want to gauge what might happen from this point.” I tried to steer the conversation away from the thoughts plaguing me.

 Her stare landed on mine, which didn’t help matters at all, “That entirely depends on what you want to happen, Lexa.”

 She’d done it again. Spoke my name like a caress.

 She was pulling me deeper. I knew I shouldn’t let her… but saying no to Clarke had always been hard.

 “There are a lot of things I want to happen, Clarke.” I murmured.

 I studied the change in her body language. Her breathing as it seemed to labour in her chest; her blood as it flushed beneath her skin.

 My comment had knocked her off-guard. I could see it had by the way she bit down on her lower lip, her eyes widening.

 She released her lip from her teeth, “Tell me.” A whisper, a gentle command. One that I couldn’t ignore. Simply because her presence weighed heavily down on me, despite her being inches apart from me.

 “Clarke…” I half intended on telling her it wasn’t a smart idea to be having this sort of conversation without some kind of mutual understanding about the very real predicament we were both in, but those words quickly dissolved in my throat, replaced with, “… You know what I want.”

 I had said those words so frequently to her in the past that they offered themselves up out of habit. A bad habit. I already knew what she would say before she even opened her mouth.

 “I want you to hear you say it.” She murmured, her breast heaving lightly in anticipation. My eyes lowered to her mouth, the building urge to claim it as my own leaving me almost breathless.

 “You. I want you.”

 She wanted more. I hadn’t given her enough.

 “I want to make you feel again. And again. Not just today. But, every time I’m with you, I want you to feel something powerful. Something that defies everything else you’ve ever felt.”

 Clarke dropped to the floor, landing artfully on her feet, closing the distance between us in one small step. She pushed apart my knees and moved to stand between my thighs. There was an untamed spark igniting her gaze as she eased my spine backwards into the kitchen counter, “You’re going to have to work for it.”

 I hadn’t expected her to grab onto the reins so quickly, already steering me to where she wanted me.

 “Tell me how.” I was aware my voice was shakier than I’d intended it to be. More of a plea. Though, I could hardly say it came as a shock.

 I could read the sobriety in her features, somewhere behind her arousal.

 “I need to know you won’t push me away like that again. If you do…”

 Blinking once, I inclined my head. She didn’t need to finish her sentence. I knew what the consequences would be.

 “I won’t, Clarke. I promise.”

 She accepted it. Somehow.

 I knew that this was the only second chance she would give me. I wasn’t about to take that lightly.

 “Are you sure you want this?” I questioned, almost afraid of the answer.

 Clarke ran her gaze over my features, steadily, “Yes. Now take me to bed and then we’ll talk.”

 My body had never responded so fast. I was on my feet, my hand in hers, leading her towards the stairs. She followed me, waiting until I had slowed to a stop in the bedroom. Her hands found my hips and she reached out to kick the door closed behind us. I turned in her arms, finding azure bearing into my eyes.

 “I want you to let go.”

 My gaze was unclipped. Clarke had complete control already and she knew it. It still wasn’t enough for her. She had to hear me give up. She nudged me backwards until my calves hit the edge of the bed.

 “You’re going to accept that you have power over every aspect of your life, but not of me. Not tonight. Tonight, you give yourself to me and you let me decide your fate.”

 I knew this was coming from a place of solemnity. Clarke harboured memories of the last night we’d shared together and how I’d made a decision for, instead of with, her. She was reinstating her position. I could control everything but her. Perhaps I had her forgiveness, but she was going to make sure I deserved it.

 I nodded, “As you wish.”

 “You accept my terms, then?” Her voice was strong, but not severe.

  _Wholly_.

 “Yes, Clarke.” I agreed, feeling her eyes run up and down my figure, as they had done countless times since she’d arrived. She said nothing, but pulled my body hard against hers, her lips finding mine.

 

.::. _C_ .::.

 

 Right from the moment I’d seen her outside her house, I couldn’t get rid of the growing hunger in my chest. I had to have her. I knew there was things we had to talk about first. Yet, I was drawn to her every time she moved. The way she fought for breath, the way her sweat pooled at the hollow of her throat, and the way her olive skin pulled over her toned muscles. Her hair was pulled back into a ponytail, stray strands shadowing her cheekbones. She was donned in a grey athletic bra and dark sports leggings, her deliciously formed body tight and exhausted. It had been a true test of my moral standing and character not to forget the reason why I was here. There were times that I very nearly did.

 But, now she was pressed against me, the heat of her mouth pouring into mine. My hands grasped at her waist, my thumb pushing into the crevice beside her hipbone. I wanted her to know that I was the one in charge. I could only imagine how hard it was for her to fully give herself over to me, but she’d done it. I could hear the soft hums in the back of her throat as I carried the pace, forcing her hips backwards onto the mattress.

 Lexa landed on the bed, a soft whimper escaping her throat, eyes wide and open. Raw and vulnerable. I thrived off it. Lived for it. The words she’d written in her letter struck me out of the blue and moved me to hover above her, her hands pinned beneath mine on the neat bedding.

  _‘You captivate me and it scares me.’_

 “Are you captivated?” I asked, throatily.

 She paused, staring up at me, unguarded, “Yes.” She answered, honestly.

 “Does it still scare you?”

 “Yes.”

 This satisfied me, “Good.”

 I busied myself unclothing her, my eyes searching for every inch of exposed skin they could find. It was empowering to see somebody possess such a level of authority crumble beneath me. Somebody who had driven me close to madness.

 With her head pressed to the pillows, her body naked and inviting, Lexa never once took her sights off me. I could see her desperately fighting the impulse to tear my clothes off. To avoid watching her suffer for too long, I eased out of my jumper and cast it aside, a thrill overcoming me as she took in the view. I slipped my thigh between hers, finding her lips again.

 “Clarke…” She breathed between kisses, “Please.”

 Mercifully, I lowered my fingers and let them work their way between her legs. She felt as good as I remembered. Hot, slick and wet.

 Lexa arched her back, the pleasure breaking her out of what little composure she had left. Initially, I’d aspired to bruise her mouth in a searing kiss, but the manner she trembled beneath my hands stabbed at an undiscovered part of my conduct. I already had her under my thumb – yes, quite literally. She’d seen me take charge, and now I wanted to show her I could control her without force. She would yield herself to me just by the gentleness of my touch. She would crave it.

 I slowed the kiss, paying attention to each small detail of her mouth, my free hand brushing deftly over her collarbones. It worked. Lexa’s fist tightened in the bedsheets. With care, I trailed my lips down her neck, feeling each groove of her windpipe with my tongue, and kept going. I paused at the base of her throat, my fingers gliding into her again and again. And again. Just when I could feel her body start to peak, I halved my pace and continued to pull my mouth downwards between her breasts, over her firm stomach and stopping just above her centre.

 I waited for her to tense in anticipation before I finally dropped my mouth between her thighs. Her fingers curled into my hair, nails grazing my scalp. I pushed her to her limits, my unoccupied hand running over her chest, squeezing and claiming. I knew she was close. I could tell by the softened moans escaping her; by the way her thighs tightened around my head. I tasted her deeply with my tongue, quickening my motions enough to carry her higher and higher. I didn’t stop. Even when her body convulsed around me, every muscle in her body shaking, I didn’t stop. I waited until she began to sink into the bedding before I moved back up to her face, letting her taste herself on my lips.

 I couldn’t tell what she was thinking when I pulled away. I held my body beside hers, watching for any sign of exposure. Her gaze dragged back to mine, her body still fighting for oxygen. I wasn’t sure how much longer I could expect her to keep submitting to me. The fire she possessed in her stare was spreading the longer she looked at me.

 Without warning, she leaned forwards and slid her hand to my neck, guiding me to her lips. Her kiss was heavy, imploring, searching.

 It was different.

 I could feel it.

 It sent my heart rate soaring.

 Carefully, she moved so she was half atop me, balancing on her forearms. I saw it then, when she pulled away. Her eyes questioned me; she wanted my permission.

 I gave it to her in a swift nod – honestly, the way she looked at me made it impossible to refuse, no matter what she was asking for.

 Her body pushed into mine as she resumed the kiss, her hand making easy work of unclasping my bra. She let the strap trail delicately over my stomach before she tossed it off the edge of the bed. She reclaimed her position above me, her eyes blazing as she examined my every feature. As usual, I had no idea what sort of thoughts she was having – I could only assume they were anything _but_ chaste.

 She didn’t demand me the way I thought she might. Instead, she exerted her confidence in an understated fashion, her movements tantalising and deliberate.

 We’d shared a look, right before she found herself between my thighs, her hands pushing my knees over her shoulders. Even though she was considerate as she ran her tongue over my skin, coaxing the moans from my mouth, it was difficult for her to contain her prerequisite to make me feel. I was certain she wanted nothing more than to shove me back against the headboard and take me as hard as she did the first time we’d met, but she kept her word. She focused her every move on pleasuring me instead of owning me.

 Usually, she did both. Usually, that was something I didn’t have a problem with. But, I needed this. I needed to know she could listen to me and do as I asked, rather than follow her own agenda.

 And it felt good.

 It felt thick, deep and –

 “ _Fuck_.” The curse punched through my throat as she squeezed my hip, moving her mouth against me intently.

 I took handful of her hair, pulling the elastic out so I could see it all fan out over my stomach. I loved the ponytail. Of course I did. But, there was something to be said about seeing her utterly released and natural, her eyes fixed on mine whilst her mouth occupied itself.

 It staggered me when I felt a low whimper against my skin. I watched Lexa as she picked up the speed, her expression wanting. Urging.

 Within moments I was edging to the crown of my gratification – but it hit me with so much more than I expected. My entire body seized over and over, Lexa’s touch spurring me on further until I could barely take another practiced flick of her tongue. She let me revel in the satiating white hot pleasure – the pleasure she had given me.

 Once my body began to recover – a task far more challenging than I’d imagined it to be – I noticed Lexa sitting between my legs, wiping her chin with the back of her hand. She watched me with dedication, memorising each expression I pulled.

 I wanted nothing more than to feel her body still pressed against mine, but she waited for my command.

 With unsteady arms, I pushed myself upright, leaning back into the headboard; I couldn’t speak for a while. I could only stare right back at her.

 “Clarke, I don’t want to be alone tonight. Will you stay with me?” She asked me so softly, so undemanding, that I could feel my chest tighten.

 I inclined my head without giving it any thought. I didn’t want to leave her. Not this time. She dipped her head down to land a kiss beneath my navel, before raising it up once more to level with me, “Have I proved myself?” She asked.

 I was absolutely certain she already knew the answer to that. When I could finally prompt my body to respond, I murmured, “Yes, and… thank you, Lexa.”

 She accepted my gratitude, gliding gracefully back up the mattress to sit beside me, “I should thank you, too. For coming here… for understanding. For taking control and letting me liberate myself.”

 I angled my head to one side, filling my sights with Lexa’s naked body as it relaxed next to mine. I couldn’t prevent myself from leaning forwards and moving my lips to hers. I didn’t want to. She accepted the motion, her hand snaking around my stomach and tugging me closer to her side. We slid down the headboard, enraptured in the dizziness of the kiss.

 It was the closest I’d ever felt to her and my mind reeled because of it.

 Delicately, Lexa pushed a lock of my hair behind my ear, her hand falling to my neck, one thumb compelled to rest in the crook of my jaw. She explored my mouth, thoroughly. It was blinding.

 I fell captive to her touch, again. How I’d lasted as long as I did without giving into her was a mystery.

 She held me to her, her lips straying from mine and finding her favoured spots on my skin – my throat, my collarbones, just above my diaphragm.

 She hitched my thigh around her hip, bringing my head to bury in the hollow of her shoulder. I let it stay there, her skin warm against mine.

 I knew we still had a journey ahead of us. There was still a lot we didn’t know about each other. I just hoped that neither of us fucked it up before it got to that point.

 Exhausted by my thoughts and physical exertion, my body slowly succumbed to sleep, feeling secure.

 Feeling safe.


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Begins the morning following Clarke and Lexa's reconciliation.

.::. _C_ .::.

 

 It was a strange sensation. Waking up next to somebody. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d allowed myself to slip into sleep beside another – it was the whole awkward morning ordeal of the other party uncomfortably asking if you’d like coffee, you realising what a mistake you’d made, and equally as uncomfortably declining said coffee. The classic ‘oh, I’ve got to let the cat out’ excuse.

 Was that even a classic?

 I’d certainly used it enough times.

 It was a warped concept that exchanging bodily fluids with another person was somehow less intimate than allowing yourself to fall asleep beside them. I knew how to do the first without forming any real attachment, but the second opened up opportunities for conversation… for connecting. I wasn’t opposed to either of those things, but it was rare to find somebody who I felt that (cliché) click with. Rare that I actually _wanted_ to. So, to save myself the bother, I usually muttered something noncommittal and made my escape before they could ask me to stop the night.

 But, all of that was barely at the forefront of my mind because I hadn’t just woken up next to ‘somebody’. I’d woken up next to Lexa.

 Lexa, who disarmed me with one intense glance of pale green. As dangerous and entrancing as a siren. As silent and deadly as a shark.

 Lexa, who I’d also spent the best part of the last couple of months despising.

 I was sunk in the lavish comforts of her huge bed; the level of comfort it provided was precarious.

 I could hear her breathing, slow and steady. I could feel the warmth of her body roll over my skin.

 As I finally felt able to open my eyes, I found my gaze fixing on the slender slope of her spine and the way her dark hair spread over the feather pillows. The quilt draped over her hips, leaving her upper body delectably on display. For a moment, I let my vision adjust to the intricate inked designs running down the centre of her back. Before I could question myself, I reached forwards, lightly tracing my finger over the tattoos, starting with the infinity sign at the base of her neck. I knew this particular symbol was a favoured among many, to the point of it potentially being a fad. Although, something told me Lexa did not get it for that reason. It must’ve meant something far more to her than just a pretty picture. She didn’t strike me as the sort to do anything without consideration. I doubted this was any different. That, and the fact it concealed a vertical scar.

 Besides which, I was a damn fool for inked girls.

 Or maybe I was just a damn fool for Lexa.

 As I felt each bump and dip of her spine beneath my touch, I heard her breath stumble. By no means did this make me retract my hand. If anything, it spurred me on. I made sure to drag my finger deliberately down to the end of her backbone, evoking a subtle shiver out of her. It made me smirk.

 I continued my motions, sliding my hand beneath the quilt to curl around the prominence of her hipbone, applying just enough pressure with my fingertips for her to emit a sound. A sound so soft and intoxicating that it left my body aching for her. But, I continued to bide my time, making sure I could work her right up to the point she would lose her self-discipline.

 I grazed the short tips of my nails over her toned stomach, delighting in the way it tensed beneath me. My fingers ascended to her sternum, teasing her with practiced control, but never quite giving into her. I pulled my thumb over her breast, utterly unprepared for the jerk of her body as her back arched against me. I repeated the motion again with purpose, desperate to receive the same reaction, and thrilled when I did.

 She lost it then, sooner than I thought she might. With one swift motion, Lexa had turned on me, her stare dark and full of intent. She wasted little time in positioning herself above me, her hair falling over one shoulder as she caught my hands in hers. Pushing them into the pillows, she let me adjust to the sensation of being thoroughly overpowered. And she revelled in it. Of course she did. I could tell by the cocky tilt of her head as she lowered her stomach over mine.

 The desire set itself deep in the lowest part of my abdomen at the way Lexa delivered me a look that promised an act as dark as the glint in her eyes. I didn’t have to wait long to find out what it was. She leaned her head down, hovering her lips by my ear, and whispered chillingly, “You shouldn’t test me this early in a morning, Clarke.”

 “And why’s tha–?”

 Her thigh pushed its way between my legs, the moving pressure against my centre excruciatingly sensual, forcing me to cut myself off with a guttural groan. I could feel her arrogant half-smile against my jaw as she closed her teeth around the bone, nipping at my skin. The excitement rocketed through my system, everything about her overtaking my senses – her unique, gratifying scent; her flawless form; her bewitching stare. And the way she used them all against me with concrete control.

 I couldn’t have pinpointed the exact moment she’d trapped both of my hands against the pillows with just one of hers, but her hold was iron. Unbreakable. I couldn’t escape. Didn’t want to.

 She pulled her free hand down the length of my torso, leaving a charged trail over my skin, before she pushed it between my legs. She worked her long fingers into me. Over and over. The entire time pinning my gaze with hers, refusing to look anywhere else except at the changes in my expression the faster she moved. I knew she was artful with her mouth – I’d figured that much out the first time she’d taken me to bed. It came as no surprise to learn that she matched that talent with her fingers alone.

 She pushed me further and further to the brink of breaking. She didn’t stop. She allowed me no mercy. I couldn’t have taken it if she had. My body needed this. _Craved_ it.

 I watched her draw her lip between her teeth as my whole body juddered, the profuse want in her eyes thickening. She kept going at just the right pace, prolonging the gratification for as long as my body allowed it, my hands gripping at hers. When I could take no more, I collapsed heavily into the bedding, trembling uncontrollably. She pulled both hands away and rested them either side of my head, capturing my mouth in a heated kiss.

 I returned it, hungrily. Urgently. I couldn’t stand the triumph that hung from her limbs. I needed to rip it away. Show her she wasn’t safe from me.

 Then, she had the audacity to pull away and murmur a smug “Good morning”.

  _Nope_.

 “Shut up, Lexa.” I growled huskily, shoving her to the side so she fell horizontal. I pressed one hand to her lips, preventing her from saying whatever smart remark she had planned. The other I used to roughly push her knees apart. I wasn’t going to allow her to feel as though she had won for a moment longer. Without hesitation, I situated my head between her thighs and dragged my tongue over her, so slowly that I could feel her falter in tight anticipation. Her breathing staggered and I smirked.

 I had her now.

 To stop her hips from raising upwards, I held them hostage against the mattress with one hand, my other squeezing at the muscle just above her knee. I moved it upwards, grabbing her thigh. Then, I stopped my motions altogether, lifting my head up just enough to capture her expression. She stared at me, wildly.

 “Something wrong?” I purred.

 Her lips parted, irritation cloaking her countenance.

 “What’s that? Can’t quite hear you.” I laughed wickedly at the cocktail of lust and fury lacing her features.

 She weaved her fingers into my hair, tightly, “Clarke.”

 “Yes, Lexa?”

 Her brow creased deeply, her jaw solid. She was terrifying. There was no contesting that. But, I was having far too much fun.

 “ _Clarke_.” She bit.

 I took the opportunity to slide my fingers inside her, satisfied by the unguarded way she dropped her head backwards. I savoured every jolt of her body, every stifled whimper. My mouth closed around her heat, prolonging every wave of pleasure that rippled through her. She crushed the bedsheets in her fists, near enough tearing the fabric.

 I pushed her further. And further. Right until she came hot and heavy in my mouth.

 She cursed – eloquently.

 When I finally allowed her body to recover, I pressed one final kiss to her stomach before raising my head upwards. I tasted her on my tongue, running it over my lower lip.

 Now, confident I had evened out the score, I let my eyes settle on her, committing the image of her shuddering with the aftershock to my memory.

 “Good morning.” I imitated.

 “Shut up, Clarke.” She managed, her voice thick and breathy.

 When she eventually pushed herself up into a sitting position, she didn’t look half as miffed as I’d expected her to. I’d banked on seeing the defeat on her features, but found I wasn’t disappointed with the expression she wore instead. Euphoric. Satiated.

 Flawless.

 With more ease than I could’ve given her credit for, she reached forwards and brushed the pad of her thumb along my jawline, her eyes focused on my lips. My skin flushed at the contact. I deceived myself into thinking she hadn’t noticed, but I knew I was only lying to myself.

 Lexa _always_ paid attention.

 To every detail.

 It was infuriating.

 When she pulled away, my stomach twisted with post-coitus elation and I didn’t take my eyes off her naked form for even a second. Even as she slid elegantly to her feet, and walked self-assuredly into her en-suite.

 The acknowledged truth that Lexa had a pair of legs that stretched endlessly beneath her was not something I’d ever ignored. But, I still felt my cheeks flare when I watched them. Even more so when she caught me looking.

 She slipped into a black silken nightgown and wrapped the belt around her waist. The hem teased the tops of her thighs, and I was instantly aroused all over again by the way the garment shaped her slim, yet sturdy, frame. And also pissed off that I could no longer see her naked torso. However, the opening of the gown left enough of her chest exposed that I could see her pronounced collarbones and an ample amount of delicate cleavage. I ran my eyes shamelessly over every inch of her that I could.

 Especially her legs.

  _God_ , her legs.

 She turned to me, catching the look on my face, “You’re analysing me.”

 I popped my lips lightly, meeting her gaze, “I’m analysing your legs.”

 “My legs? Have you drawn any informative conclusions?”

 I shrugged, “Difficult to say at this point. I might need a little more time on them before I can find anything stimulating to say.”

 She raised an eyebrow, apparently amused, “You’ve been gawping for a while. Don’t you think you’ve spent enough time on them?”

 “No. I’m not convinced I’ve spent enough time between them, either…”

 If my comment affected her, she concealed it well. Her only giveaway was the subtle flicker of her gaze as it landed briefly on my mouth, “Something that’s easily rectifiable.”

 I mumbled a sound of agreement, “I am a perfectionist after all.”

 “I’ve noticed.”

 Before I could come up with anything witty to retaliate with, she switched the topic, “Are you hungry?”

 I tried to recall the last time I ate. Presumably it had been on my last night shift, over a day ago. I’d had to eat what I could between seeing patients, meals consisting of very little sustenance. The odd biscuit with my rushed coffee here, and a hard-boiled fruit sherbet there.

 “My routine usually gets pretty fucked up when I’ve been on nights. And I’ve been on them for the past couple of weeks, so… so I suppose I should… I should probably–”

 “–You can say yes, Clarke.” Lexa interjected, continuing to survey me with the discreet entertained pull of her lips. It was a barely noticeable expression, but I spent most of my time examining the slight changes in her facial movements that I caught it every single time.

 “I – yes.” I conceded.

 “Not that I’m encouraging you to cover yourself up, but I have a spare nightgown in the bathroom if you get chilly.” She told me, “I’ll be downstairs when you’re ready.”

 Because she hadn’t posed her offer as a question, I didn’t feel the need to answer. Once she’d disappeared downstairs, I examined the grey silky nightgown in her bathroom. It smelled of her. I touched the material, gently. Would it be weird for me to wear something of hers? I wasn’t sure we were at that point yet. If we would ever get to that point. I’d only just began to converse with her again.

  _Clarke, it’s a nightgown_ , I reminded myself.

 Still.

 I opted for the long jumper I’d wore last night. I slipped on my underwear and gave myself a little time to freshen up, attempting to sort out the messiness of my hair. Once I was more or less satisfied with myself, I headed down the staircase into the open plan kitchen. She was busy at the cooker, cracking eggs into a glass measuring jug. On the high counter top there was an array of chopped fruit and syrups set out next to a steaming mug of coffee.

 I knew it was for me because it had milk in it.

 Lexa took hers black.

 She poured pancake batter into a crepe pan and balanced it on the heat, “Sit.” She instructed softly, turning to glance at me over her shoulder, her eyes raking over the jumper. I presumed she was satisfied with the way it hung at my thighs. I was confident I’d made a good choice.

 I did as she bode me and sat down in front of the coffee, content with watching her graceful form move about her space.

 “How is Octavia?” She asked, unexpectedly.

 I sipped at the coffee as I debated my response, “Yeah, she’s… she’s been doing much better psychologically since she hasn’t walked in on the two of us for some time.”

 “Is that right?” I caught sight of her smirk as she expertly flipped the pancake with a practiced flick of her wrist.

 “Oh, absolutely.” I let a soft giggle leave my lips, “So, you’re a cook amongst everything else?”

 “Everything else?” She repeated, sending me a sly glance.

 “Yeah, you know. Between being a successful business owner, seasoned martial artist, cocktail creator, running the world… and whatever else it is you do… is there anything you’re bad at?”

 Lexa shrugged, piling the pancakes up onto a plate, “Absolutely.”

 “Such as?” I pushed.

 “Saying no to you, for one thing.” She mock-chided, bringing the pancakes to the counter and setting them out between us, “Help yourself.”

 The pancakes looked and smelled divine and my stomach grumbled with hunger, “I’m going to have to.” I served out a pancake for each of us, “You haven’t poisoned them, have you?”

 “Not the pancakes, no. I can’t make any promises about the syrup, though.” She returned.

 We ate in silence for a moment. But, it was comfortable.

 Nothing like my previous escapades staying over at people’s houses. The space between us was palpable. I hated keeping my hands to myself. Yet, I knew feeling her up at breakfast would be highly inappropriate.

 It made me want to do it even more.

 I forced myself not to on principle. She already knew I was struggling not to stare at her and I didn’t want to massage her ego any more than I already had.

 “These are incredible.” I told her, massaging her ego anyway once I’d finished my second pancake.

 “I’m glad you approve.”

 I was certain she knew that the quality of her food was unquestionable. She never did anything by halves.

 I thought of the previous night. Of the things Lexa had written in her letter. There was still a part of me that hungered for answers. Answers that I wasn’t sure I’d want to hear.

 She was watching me. Of course she was.

 “What is it?” She asked, finally.

 “Lexa…” I began, “… I know neither of us are leading particularly conventional lifestyles. I mean… I can’t even begin to grasp what your role entails. I guess my main concern is about what happened that night.”

 “You mean when I nearly killed a man.”

 She’d never been one to beat about the proverbial bush.

 “Well, yes. It’s just… that’s a pretty big thing. Huge, really. I understand you have to protect yourself and your cause. I get that. But, is it something that… you know, do you…?”

 “Regularly kill people?”

 Again. No bush beating.

 “I wasn’t going to word it quite like that.” I took a slow breath inwards, “And I’m not trying to be preachy, I promise. But, if we are carrying on with this thing, whatever it is, I need to know that…”

 God, why was I finding this so difficult?

 Then again, it wasn’t a particularly normal conversation to have. With anybody.

 “You need to know that I won’t be committing frequent heinous acts that could put you in danger, or at odds with the law.”

 “Well, there is that.” I acknowledged, “But, that’s not what I meant. It’s not just me who could get put in danger. It’s you, too.”

 Her face softened.

 “And I don’t want that to happen.” I glanced away from her, briefly.

 I felt her hand curl around my thigh and I lowered mine to wrap around her fingers, “Clarke, I won’t lie to you. It is a possibility. Sometimes, a necessity. But, it is not regular. I promise. What happened here was unusual. Since I know now who was behind it, I can stop it from happening again.”

 I nodded, releasing her hand, “I understand.”

 I didn’t. Not entirely. But, I wasn’t sure I wanted every detail explained to me, either. I offered her a small smile and returned to my meal, pushing it out of my mind.

 Once I’d helped polish off the last of the pancakes, I finished my coffee and went to go stack the dishwasher.

 Lexa allowed me to do it, her hip pressed against the counter as she watched me. I was sure she actually only let me do it because the job required me to bend over. I caught her looking as I straightened back up.

 “See anything you like?” I teased.

 Her eyes flickered over mine, her jaw set intensely, “Several things, actually.”

 “Mm? Like what?” I walked towards her, emphasising the swing of my hips as I did so. She received me with her hands, cupping my rear.

 “Don’t be coy. I think you know what.”

 “Oh, I do. But, it turns me on when you tell me.”

 “This.” She clipped it lightly, pulling my hips against hers with almost unnatural strength.

 A soft gasp left my lips at the way she ran her fingers unapologetically over my ass, trapping me to the counter, “I see.” I breathed.

 We were interrupted by the sound of Lexa’s phone vibrating on the kitchen side. She seemed disinterested by it, occupying her attention on my curves instead.

 “Shouldn’t you get that?” I asked, my hands curling around the edge of the counter.

 She growled, softly. A sound I assumed meant ‘yes’.

 Reluctantly, she released me and went to answer the call, her demeanour instantly cooling. She held the phone by her ear, her expression smoothing out easily, “What is it?”

 Lexa’s pose was glacial. Unmoving. She listened to the voice on the other end of the call, giving away nothing.

 “Yes. I’ll be there shortly. Inform the others.”

 She hung up promptly, turning to me.

 I inclined my head, “Duty calls?”

 “Annoyingly.” She sounded like she meant it.

 “I’ll go get my stuff.” I headed up the stairs to gather my things together, clothing myself properly, before I joined Lexa in the kitchen again, “Thanks for breakfast… and the screaming orgasms.”

 Before I could let things get awkward, I made my way to the front door, my heart beating fast.

 “Clarke, wait.” She followed me, hesitating for a moment before she continued, “Will we…?”

 I watched her struggle, making no attempts to alleviate her.

 “I want to see you again.” She said, finally.

 “Are you sure about that?” I asked, a little facetiously, fully aware that Lexa would wish to finish off whatever she’d started with me against the kitchen counter.

 “Yes.” Something passed over her expression. I wouldn’t have called it uncertainty, but it could have been something close to that, “That is… if you’ll let me.”

 “I might.” I smirked, opening the door and firing a wink in her direction as I walked over to my car, “See you around.”

 I left her staring after me, darkly.

 And it felt good.

 So good.

 

.::. _L_.::.

 

 Nobody made me feel the way Clarke could.

 Every time I saw her, I wanted nothing more than to have her up against whatever surface was closest to me. She knew how to press my buttons.

 Press them? No. Hit them repeatedly. Over and over.

 Until I shirked all self-control and gave into the ever present carnal desires.

 Clarke was difficult for me to read. There was something both familiar and strange about her presence.

 Familiar because I’d wanted her from the moment I’d first seen her (and just thinking about her drove me to insanity). Because she had the uncanny ability to make everybody around her feel at perfect ease. Because she was a natural leader, like me. Because she had an ego, like me.

 Strange because I wasn’t used to seeing somebody display their emotions so freely, _unlike_ me. Because she didn’t make efforts to impress me. She did it all too easily. Because she recognised her own flaws and didn’t hide from them. Because she was real.

 That was perhaps the strangest thing of all.

 It was a fact that people behaved differently when they were around me. I had influence. A lot of it. People feared me. I was so self-aware that some considered it a fault. But, Clarke made me forget myself. She didn’t seem to care about my position in society. She bypassed all of that and focused on who I really was. Not society’s perception of me. It was a peculiar irony that the power I held over others was the same power she held over me.

 I was playing a dangerous game with Clarke. With myself.

 I knew the rules, and I wanted nothing more than to break every single one of them. An unfamiliar sensation for me.

 Once I’d readied myself, I unlocked my car and slid into the driver’s seat, still thinking about the unexpected turn of events. I wasn’t sure what exactly I wanted with Clarke. There was still a lot neither of us knew about the other. All I knew was that I wanted _her_. With every piece of me.

 I met with Indra, Nyko, and some select others of my inner circle at Gustus’ place. He was well on his way to recovering and had insisted that he was to be involved with all of the business’ dealings from this point onwards. I consented, understanding that he must’ve felt like a spare part during his time off. I valued Gustus and held him in high regard – and my respect wasn’t something easily gained. But, I knew the injury had damaged more than just his body. He felt it was an attack on his pride.

 We gathered in his study, Gustus indicating for me to sit at the head of the table. He sat by my right side, propping his walking cane against the chair arm.

 The room was silent, each person waiting for me to speak. We didn’t bother with pleasantries until after all business had been discussed. I filled the room in on everything that had occurred with Roan to begin with, and lead onto the suspicions about Cage Wallace being the one behind the intrusion in my home. I never padded the meetings out for longer than necessary. I stuck to the bare facts. I had other items to discuss in terms of smaller changes within the businesses and our input with the ER security. Once I’d glossed over those, I finalised the meeting with instructions.

 “And what of Roan? Is he to know about the friction with Mountweather Corp?” Tristan, another powerful influence within my inner circle, spoke up from the other end of the table.

 “I deal with Roan personally. Anything he needs to know, he hears from me.”

 Tristan inclined his head once. I knew he had reservations about me forming an alliance with the son of our most inconvenient rival, but he knew to keep them to himself.

 I didn’t discourage people from challenging me. Generally. But, once my mind was set, I was difficult to dissuade. Plus, I wasn’t in a talking mood. I’d made that much clear.

 This meeting had torn me away from a morning with Clarke.

 As soon as I was able, I left for my office. I needed to be out of the house – had I returned, I would’ve been too distracted with ruminating over the time we’d shared there.

 I couldn’t afford those sorts of distractions at this point. Not when I had so much work to catch up on. But, somehow, it was different. Before, my limbs were weighed and my brain was lagging – it didn’t show, of course. I’d never let it show once. Now, I felt the flare and passion rekindle in my chest; a newfound motivation.

 I wasn’t corny enough to point at Clarke as the sole reason for this change. The last two months had been hard, but the sound of her carefree laughter I’d committed to my memory and the deep blue of her wide-eyed gaze made everything feel lighter.

 Easier.

 

.::. _C_ .::.

 

 “You’ve joined the land of the living again, then?”

 Recognising the voice to be my mother’s, I glanced at her over the roof of my car as she picked her way through the parked vehicles towards me.

 “Yeah, it’s nice to actually see the sun again.” I managed a small smile, locking up my car and swinging into step beside her. I’d started working days again over the past week. Surprisingly, it had been pretty quiet – a word I was loathe to say, lest I jinx the shift. But, by this point, I was sort of hoping for a little chaos. It stopped the day from dragging.

 “Who’s on with you today?” My mother asked.

 “Three guesses.” I returned, adjusting the strap of my handbag to sit comfortably on my shoulder.

 “Ah. Emerson?”

 With a roll of my eyes, I muttered, “Bingo. His shifts seemed to have magically aligned with mine since he’s come back. I think he blames me for his suspension.”

 She shrugged, “He’s a big boy. He should know better than to blame somebody else for his mistake.”

 “Still,” I sighed, “it doesn’t stop him from giving me the most mundane tasks he can think of. I mean, you know, I love a good rectal examination as much as the next person, but…”

 My mother cracked a grin, her laughter coaxing out mine.

 “How’s everything else going?” She asked, once her smile eventually faded.

 “Good, I think. Only got a couple more exams left and then I can finally start moving up. Hopefully somewhere _away_ from Emerson.”

 “But, you love ER.”

 I inclined my head, “I know, it’s just… I sort of want to push myself further. Maybe get into neurology. Or cardiology, at least. ER is good for baseline experience, but I think I’ve reached my limit with it at this point.”

 My mother smiled warmly, “As I’ve told you before, you can achieve anything you want.”

 As we approached the main entrance, my mother slowed to a stop outside the stairwell, “If you’re free after your shift has finished, it would be nice to have a proper catch-up.”

 I considered this, the idea of spending some time with my mother again under far more relaxed circumstances.

 “Yeah, I’d like that.” I nodded, “Millers?”

 Millers Café used to be a favoured spot of my mother’s, owned by David Miller, a friend of both her and my father’s. I went to school with his son, Nathan. He frequented the café to help out during periods of time he wasn’t working overseas.

 I departed towards the ER and instantly felt my innards clench the second I stepped onto the ward. It wasn’t that I’d seen anything particularly amiss. In fact, everything seemed pretty ordinary. I couldn’t explain it. Once I’d changed into my work attire, the white lab coat wrapped around my shoulders, I rested my hands in my pockets.

 And I felt the screwed up photograph stuffed at the very bottom on my right side.

 Unfolding it, I glanced down at the image. It was difficult to really _truly_ make anything of it. But, I was going to try.

 “Resus in Bay 2!”

  _Dammit_. It was going to be one of those days.

 I shoved the picture back in my pocket and let it slip out of my mind.

 Towards the end of my shift, I found myself occupied with the lives I hadn’t saved.

 An 18 year old boy. Somebody’s son.

 An elderly lady. Somebody’s grandmother.

 A middle-aged man. Somebody’s husband.

 I knew I couldn’t save everybody. But, it was never a pleasant feeling to step off the ward with a life hanging over your shoulders. Or three. Three failed resus attempts out of four. Yes, it was all part of the job. Yes, I could go home and leave it all behind me in the hospital. Yes, I had saved a life.

 But, it was still a shitty feeling. A really shitty feeling.

 Plus, on top of that, Emerson was on a rampage – leaping at every opportunity to leer over my shoulder. I couldn’t keep up with him. One minute, he was fawning over the loss of life with me, and then the next, he was cracking morbid and humourless jokes in the staff room. I was grateful to be on call for the next few days just so I didn’t have to look at his face.

 I met with my mother at Millers Café, and for the first time, I was actually looking forwards to it. I couldn’t wait to gripe about Emerson with somebody who got it. As I leaned back in my seat, sipping at my latte, I bitched and moaned about his insufferable presence on shift.

 “He’s always been a bit tasteless. But, I remember when he was a junior. He wasn’t half as smug as he is now.” My mother told me, stirring the sugar into her tea.

 “What changed?” I asked, “I mean, if I ever get to that stage where I can laugh about a young man dying, just fire me. Send me to work in retail or something. Somewhere that I can hide behind clothes racks and ignore people.”

 She raised her eyebrows in amusement, “I don’t think that’s what working in retail is really like, Clarke.”

 I made a distasteful sound in the back of my throat, “Then I’ll just sell my art for a living and grow old surrounded by thousands of cats. Cats are so much easier to deal with than humans – and that’s including all the cats that allow you to pet them for 0.3 seconds before clawing your hands off.”

 “It’s a tempting alternative, isn’t it?”

 “So tempting. Anyway, talking of male people who work in a medical setting, I saw Marcus a couple of months back. He was stepping in with the paramedics.”

 She tilted her head to one side, lowering her teacup back to the table, “That’s a very vague connection to make.”

 “Humour me.” I grinned.

 “Well, yes, he’s been stepping in with the paramedics. He’s trying to create a new ambulance team where people of different professions all attend emergency scenes. It’s to make health services better equipped to deal with obscure situations. That, and we’ve been having a staffing crisis… So, he agreed to step in and pilot the project.”

 Coyly, I sipped at the coffee, “Mm. Any particular reason why he was so eager, or…?”

 “Clarke.” She sent me a disapproving look across the table, “There’s no ulterior motive for him.”

 I let her know I strongly disbelieved that by nudging her knee with mine, “No, he’s just a really thoughtful guy all round.”

 “If you’re trying to tease me about Marcus Kane, stop. You’re doing a terrible job of it.”

 I smirked, “Can’t blame me for trying. Everybody knows he’s desperate for you to notice him.”

 Expertly, she swerved the topic towards me, “Well, you’re one to talk. Aren’t you the one with all the gossip? What was his name? Your acquaintance… the diabetic one. Now, if I recall correctly – and I absolutely do – you had something going on with one of his visitors. The tall silent one with dark hair.”

 I chose to hide the flush of my skin behind my mug.

 “Is she still on the scene?”

 I paused for a moment, trying to figure out whether I wanted to get into this whole debacle with my mother. We were still mending our relationship and I wasn’t sure we were quite at this level yet.

 Saying that, I was pretty quick to tease her about Marcus.

 Obviously, I had terrible double standards.

 “Actually, I didn’t see her for a while. But, we got back in touch recently.”

 “Ah-ha.” My mom nodded, “Is that why you had such a spring in your step this morning? Anyway, come on. What’s she like?”

  _Well… she likes a_ lot _of things._

 “She’s very… I mean, she’s very…” I attempted. And failed.

 “She’s very.” She repeated, “I mean, I got that much when I met her. She is very. Did you meet her at the hospital, or…?”

 I shook my head, “No, actually. I met her on a night out.”

  _And we had mind-blowing sex all night._

 “I didn’t intend for anything to happen with her really.” I shrugged, “But, I saw her again when Gustus was brought into ER, so we got talking.”

 Talking… fucking… same thing.

 The way I described it was alien. So simplified. It took every single emotion I’d felt out of context and tossed it to the wayside. I didn’t just meet Lexa on a night out. I met her at her own club and she’d claimed me with heat and intensity. I was explaining everything so platonically, and it somehow felt _wrong_.

 Why did I find this so difficult? Why couldn’t I talk about Lexa without my ribs constricting my lungs?

 “So, she’s nice then?”

  _Nice?_

 If I was to choose a word to describe Lexa, ‘nice’ would have been the term at the absolute bottom of my vocabulary. It was so plain and undescriptive. It explained nothing.

 “Yeah, she’s very…” I trailed away, much to my mother’s entertainment.

 “She’s very. Yes, I got that much.” She laughed, softly, “It sounds like I may need to make my own judgement. Perhaps I’ll meet her under other circumstances?”

 Or, perhaps not.

 The thought scared the bejesus out of me.

 I made some noncommittal mumbling noise around the coffee mug and proceeded to ignore the fact that my mother had seen Lexa wrapped intimately around me in the hospital car park.

 “Anyway, weren’t you seeing that Collins boy? What happened with him?”

 I grimaced at her question, “Whole new can of worms. Totally different kettle of fish. A completely…” When no other metaphors sprung to mind, I resigned myself to finally explaining, “Well, it turns out Finn was already in a relationship. Engaged, in fact. To Raven Reyes. Somebody in the year above me at school. She was more friends with the Blakes than she was with me, but yeah. So, they lived together. Raven came home and found me at their house with Finn and that was that.”

 She pursed her lips.

 “So, that happened.” I laughed, my voice sounding a little hollow, “Honestly, I just felt more guilty than upset. Like, I’d ruined Raven’s happiness or whatever. I thought Finn and I were serious… but there’s nothing quite as serious as legal binding.”

 “You didn’t know, then?”

 I shook my head, “God, no. I hate cheating. I know what it’s like to be on the other side of it. I’ve been through it enough times before. So, I felt shitty that I’d been doing that to Raven.”

 I considered Lexa at this point. Part of me was a little worried that she was the womanizer I’d initially suspected her to be. I didn’t delve too deep into those thoughts, but they were still there. I just dreaded the unthinkable moment of finding out that she too might have a girlfriend – or a goddamn wife – whose existence she’d kept under her hat. Or something.

 I wasn’t averse to keeping things casual with sexual partners; like, sure I’d had fun with people before. But, when you felt something – actually _felt_ something for or with somebody – the thought of them being with another could cut you up. Deep.

 We continued to chat, generally about lighter topics. Mom was redecorating, I was almost done studying, and Octavia and Bellamy were doing well in their jobs… that sort of thing. It felt nice. Strange to be having these sorts of conversations with my mother (and not despising every moment of it). But nice.

 Once we’d finished our beverages and made our pleasantries with David Miller, we both separated and said goodbye.

 I returned back to the flat, wandering in just as Octavia was leaving. She passed me with a hip-bump and a devilish “watch where you’re going, Griffin”.

 “Yeah, yeah. Presume you’re being a dirty stop-out tonight?” I asked, propping the door open with my foot as the Chancellor padded into the apartment.

 She graced me with a wide grin, “Did the lipstick give it away?”

 “No. It’s the ten inch whore heels you’ve got on.” I indicated to her feet, smirking.

 “Six inch, actually. That being said, I’ll be getting Lincoln’s ten inches later.” She returned with a wink.

 “Ten inches? Christ. I can’t _wait_ to see you hobbling in first thing tomorrow, and in those heels too.”

 Octavia cackled, “Oh, you and me both, Griffin. Chancellor hasn’t been fed, by the way.”

 I nodded, “Yeah, I’ll see to him. Now, go on. Piss off. You’re making me sick.”

 She swanned off, leaving me with a merry smile.

 Following the events of that day, I felt the exhaustion set in my limbs. After whipping up an edible something from the fridge for both me and the Chancellor, I collapsed under the bedsheets. I’d always been a pretty good sleeper; a quality I could thank my father for. He’d always had the gift of falling asleep anywhere at any time. So, when I eventually drifted off to sleep, I knew I would be out for the night.

 My alarm went off sooner than I would’ve liked, but the blow was softened with the knowledge that I was on call that day. From 7am until 5pm. I didn’t have to get to the hospital at the crack of dawn. I could take things pretty slow, providing I didn’t have anything pressing to attend to within the next hour.

 Once I’d showered, boosted my systems with copious amounts of caffeine, and settled down at my desk, my phone buzzed against the surface. I half expected it to be the hospital already. Surprisingly, though, it wasn’t.

 

_[06:58] From: Lexa_

_Do you have plans this evening?_

 It was the first I’d heard from her since our reconciliation. In fairness, I’d been pretty busy and hadn’t gotten round to messaging her either. Well… either that, or I was just outright nervous.

 

_[07:02] To: Lexa_

_You’re awake far too early. Did the thought of me keep you up all night?_

_[07:14]_ _From: Lexa_

_I can tell by your sass that you’ve already had your morning coffee._

 

I scoffed to myself. If she only knew. I sipped at said caffeinated beverage, skimming through the modules my next exam would be based on before replying.

 

  _[07:46] To: Lexa_

_I’ve had three. So, there’s plenty more sass where that came from. My schedule this evening depends on whether I like what you have to say next._

_[07:51] From: Lexa_

_Somehow, my green tea isn’t having quite the same effect as your coffee. And, if that is the case, I may be best avoiding saying anything at all._

_[08:00] To: Lexa_

_Are you sure? I’m definitely sensing sass from you, too._

_[08:11] From: Lexa_

_I must be a natural, then. If you’re interested, I’ve made reservations at Il Piacere for 7pm._

_[08:18] To: Lexa_

_How presumptuous of you. I might’ve had other plans._

 I was enjoying this side of Lexa far too much to really be concentrating on my studies. Every fragment of text I revised quickly slipped into some black hole at the back of my brain somewhere. Il Piacere was a restaurant I’d heard of. I’d never eaten there. Primarily because it was upmarket. And the waiting list was about 12-14 months. It hardly surprised me that Lexa had somehow managed to book a table for that evening – what with her being in such high social standing. The thought made me a little dizzy.

 

  _[08:32] From: Lexa_

_I’m confident you can reschedule them._

_[08:47] To: Lexa_

_Again. Presumptuous. What if I don’t like Italian?_

_[09:15] From: Lexa_

_Clarke, do you like Italian?_

 

 I quirked an eyebrow, resigning myself to lean back in my chair with the company of one fluffy white tomcat. He was more interested in my revision notes than I was, pawing playfully at the textbook pages.

 

  _[09:17] To: Lexa_

_Maybe._

_Yes. I do. But that’s not the point._

_[09:24] From: Lexa_

_You’re insufferable._

 I smirked, trying to picture whether her expressions would change at all from the stony façade she usually wore. I hadn’t pegged her as the sort to share in humorous exchanges over text, but she continually surprised me.

 

  _[09:28] To: Lexa_

_Is that why you’re taking me out to dinner?_

_[10:01] From: Lexa_

_Talk about being presumptuous. Who says I’m taking you out to dinner?_

 I laughed. Aloud. I knew she thought she’d got one over on me there… and to be fair to her, she had. But, I wasn’t going to let her know that.

 

  _[10:28] To: Lexa_

_And you call me insufferable._

_[10:51] From: Lexa_

_And rightly so. Aren’t you supposed to be busy saving lives?_

_[11:05] To: Lexa_

_I’m on-call. So, I’m working from home._

_[11:26] From: Lexa_

_“Working”._

I shook my head, barely aware of the small smile I had tugging at my lips. Her wit was on fire this morning… I refused to believe she’d been drinking only green tea.

 

  _[11:39] To: Lexa_

_Aren’t you supposed to be busy running a mafia or something?_

_[11:50] From: Lexa_

_Perks of being the don. You pay everybody to run it for you._

_[12:08] To: Lexa_

_I hope you made a reservation for three people tonight._

_Me. You. Your ego._

 I pushed my phone aside for the moment, trying to get myself back into study mode. Of course, the Chancellor was still lounging idly over my papers, and my phone had buzzed again. Overall, I was having a very unproductive day.

 

  _[12:11] From: Lexa_

_If I’d have known you liked my ego that much, I would’ve introduced you both sooner._

 I scoffed at her response. Right. Like it wasn’t the first part of her I’d met.

 

  _[12:30] To: Lexa_

_The joke’s on you. I’ve been fucking your ego since the get-go._

_[12:36] From: Lexa_

_I’m pleased my ego has been satisfactory enough in bed for you to keep coming back for more._

 

 I never got the chance to respond to that. Once I’d recovered from the thought of _just_ how satisfactory Lexa was in bed, the hospital called me. So, I left for work with mixed feelings of arousal and disappointment. However, the thought of seeing Lexa that evening was certainly motivation enough to get me through the day. It made it twice as difficult, too. When I wasn’t busy helping out in resus, I was thinking of her eyes.

 Pale and piercing. Deep and intense.

 Her smile.

 Small and subtle. Genuine and graceful.

 Her.

 And everything about her I hadn’t discovered yet.

 

 

 

  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope this chapter has fulfilled your Clexa needs. Thank you for devoting your time to reading this fiction so far. Please, keep me informed with your thoughts. I love hearing from you all. 
> 
> Until next time.
> 
> Lady Of Cythera  
> xox


	13. Chapter 13

.::. _L_.::.

 

 When I saw her, wrapped up in a navy autumn coat and a menthol cigarette between her lips, I felt my chest heave slightly. Like there was something locked up tightly behind my ribs. Something that only she had the key to. There was a crisp pinch in the air – the sort that reminded you everything was temporary. Especially summer. It was just as well, really. I’d always preferred the colder seasons. Besides, I liked the way it brought the colour to her cheeks.

 Clarke lit the end of her cigarette once she’d climbed out of the taxi, her eyes drawn to me immediately, “Do you often loiter on street corners?” She asked, inhaling the smoke and releasing it through pouted lips.

 I shrugged, tilting my head to one side to properly appraise her appearance.

 This just seemed to amuse her.

 “What? No quick comeback?” She teased, “Did you use them all up today already?”

 “I’m more concerned about overloading you with snide remarks. We all have our daily recommended intake of wit.” I returned, pulling my gaze back to hers.

 “Ah…” She murmured, “I’ve never been one to follow guidelines.”

 As if to prove herself, she flicked the ash from the end of her cigarette before returning it to her mouth.

 “You’re a rebel through and through.” I agreed.

 Clarke offered me a small smirk, then. I knew she was debating whether to continue mocking me. Of course, she made up her mind within a matter of milliseconds.

 “Is that why you’ve taken such a liking to me?” She quirked an eyebrow, moving towards me and tossing the remnants of her cigarette to the ground, “You’ve never had much chance to break the rules, because you’ve always been the one to make them.”

 In a way, she was right.

 I shrugged, “Maybe that’s why you’ve taken such a liking to me, too. You’re contumacious, and I’m the authority.”

 She laughed, her voice carrying through the air between us, “Sometimes, I’m sure you make these words up.”

 We made our way into the cordiality of the restaurant. It was as well-kept as I remembered it. Of course, for a Michelin-star eatery, one would expect nothing less.

 “ _Buonasera, Signora_!” The waiter addressed me with a sweeping bow and a welcoming smile.

 I returned the greeting in kind. He didn’t ask for my name.

 He didn’t need to.

 We conversed briefly in his native language as he showed me to our reserved booth. It was tucked away in a secluded part of the room, illuminated by warm candlelight. Clarke had fallen silent, seeming to take the grandeur of the tasteful décor. The waiter complimented her appearance with sincerity, and she provided him with a pleasant smile in return. She lowered herself into the seat he had pulled out for her, her eyes locking with mine. He was quick to return with menus and a bottle of red Italian wine, pouring us both a serving with a flourish of his wrist.

 “Bilingual, too?” She asked me, once he had left us to select our dishes, and high recommendations for the Chef’s special.

 I sipped at the wine, my feet settling by hers beneath the table, “Multilingual, actually.” I corrected.

 “Multilingual?” She raised both eyebrows in genuine surprise, “Well… I shouldn’t be shocked, I suppose. I did ask you to bring your ego along with you, after all.”

 I said nothing further, but I couldn’t control the small smile that was pulling at my lips.

 “So, _Il Piacere_. What does that mean?”

 I swilled the contents of my glass around the edges for a moment as I replied, “The Pleasure.”

 Clarke drew her lower lip beneath her teeth, something passing over her eyes that provoked an urge of curiosity in me. I wanted to know what thought had just crossed her mind.

 I stared at her for a few more seconds, hoping to coax it out of her.

 She was on to me, it seemed. She betrayed nothing.

 I only hoped I would find out sooner or later. By the way she let her gaze run over my features, I imagined it would be sooner. It lit a slow burning fire in my chest, the flames licking at my throat. I sipped at the wine, half hoping to quell the sensation. Naturally, I couldn’t.

 “Do you come here a lot?” She asked me, tucking her fingers beneath the menu.

 I shook my head, “No. Not particularly.”

 “Do I dare ask how you got this reservation so quickly?”

 I placed down my wineglass and rested my hand in my lap, “I’ve known the family for quite some time.”

 Clarke chose not to probe any further. She dropped her eyes down to the menu, a look of confusion crossing over her face, “I don’t suppose you’d be any good at translating the menu for me?”

 I reached forwards and pointed to each of the starters, “So, this one is basically gnocchi and pomodoro with–”

 I stopped myself, noticing Clarke’s expression remained unchanged.

 “Maybe even more basic than that.” She laughed, quietly.

 “Dumplings with cheese and tomato sauce.”

 She grinned over at me, “Now, that’s my language.”

 I continued to decode the complicated Italian starters and mains for her, offering my opinion whenever she asked for it, until she had made a decision.

 I felt a flutter deep within my stomach every time she glanced up at me, requesting to know what I thought of each dish. I wasn’t sure why. Perhaps I enjoyed the fact that she needed my help. Or maybe it wasn’t that she needed it.

 More like that she seemed to value my thoughts.

 I was hyperaware of her bare leg as it brushed mine. Her white dress fell just above her knees. Mine was longer, but the slit opened up to my mid-thigh. And the heat that transmitted between our skins was getting harder to ignore. If Clarke felt it too, she was a little more practiced at masking it than I was.

 Then again… the rise and fall of her breast had quickened. And the grip on her wineglass was tighter.

 It was a relief when the waiter presented our dishes – it cut off the corners of the unavoidable tension between us.

 “How’s the…” Clarke trailed away, staring hard at the starter in front of me as though it would produce the name for her.

 “ _Crema di zucca arrosto_?”

 “Yeah.” She exhaled with a gentle laugh, “That. Show-off.”

 Silently, I held a spoon up to her lips. I half expected her to make a dig at me for being corny, or something. But, she didn’t.

 Instead, she shaped her mouth delicately around the spoon, her eyes unmoving from mine.

 I would be telling a tremendous lie if I said it didn’t turn me on.

 As much as I enjoyed tasting new flavours, all I could really think about was tasting Clarke.

 “Do you like it?” I asked, my throat dry despite the amount of wine that had moistened it.

 She hummed, softly, “I still have no idea what it is, though.”

 I was going to tell her it was pumpkin soup. Yet, my words failed me.

 “Should I make this twice as cliché by offering you some of mine?” She raised an eyebrow, holding up the fork towards me.

 I took it between my lips, the fluttering in my body spreading at the way she examined me.

 To tell the truth, I couldn’t even remember whether I liked the flavour or not.

 Eventually, once we had finished our starters and were well into our main courses, Clarke shifted her attention back to me (although, I wasn’t sure it had ever left me to begin with).

 “Lexa… I realised that I don’t know your surname.” She observed, quietly.

 I swallowed and rested my wrists on the edge of the table, wondering how to craft my response.

 “I mean… you don’t have to tell me. If you can’t, or whatever.”

 “It’s not that, Clarke. I just…” Suddenly, the last mouthful seemed to lodge somewhere in my chest, “I don’t… I don’t really have one.”

 Her eyes widened, before she smoothed out her expression, “You’re joking.”

 I didn’t say anything further.

 “Right? It’s a joke?” She pressed.

 I shook my head, “No. It’s not.”

 The silence stretched between us as Clarke tried to determine what to say next.

 After what seemed like a minute, or so, she lowered her knife and fork, “Why?”

 “I never knew my birth parents.” I told her, my appetite waning rapidly, “I spent my childhood in foster care. Nobody knew where I came from. I was never adopted, so I was never given a family name.”

 Clarke seemed to be processing this, perhaps still trying to work out whether I was telling the truth or not.

 “What about your birth certificate? Your passport?”

 I angled my head to one side, sending her a small shrug, “I don’t have a legitimate certificate. My legal documentation is forged.”

 Clarke took a slow breath, her eyes running over my features. It didn’t affect me – she wasn’t pitying me. She was trying to understand me.

 And that made all the difference.

 “I’m sorry.” She said at last.

 I wasn’t sure why she was apologising. I got the feeling she didn’t know either. I supposed she just didn’t know what else to say. I made no attempt to tell her anything further, despite the fact she looked as though she probably wanted a little more detail.

 “We don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want.”

 I inclined my head once.

 I didn’t want to talk about it.

 To tell the truth, I’d never even attempted talking about it.

 I didn’t know how.

 My childhood should be kept exactly where it was. In the past. No good would ever come from reliving it.

 “It isn’t because I don’t trust you, Clarke.” I murmured, “It’s just something that is better left undisturbed.”

 “Why do you think that?” She wasn’t being pushy. Her questions were open – undemanding. She was giving me the chance to divulge as much or as little as I chose to. Maybe that’s why I felt I could be honest with her.

 “I don’t know entirely. Perhaps because I don’t see that person as me anymore. It’s like looking at somebody else – somebody I don’t recognise. That, and I don’t know what it would do to me if I was to talk about it.”

 Then, Clarke reached out to me and covered my hand with hers, just for the briefest moment. She was gentle, but not condescending.

 “It’s okay. I get that. It’s never easy to talk about the things we reject the most about ourselves. The things we resent, or the things we think have made us weak. My dad used to tell me that we can look at the darkness within ourselves, but we should never stare.” She shrugged, pulling her hand back, “If you ever do want to talk about it in the future, know that I will be there to listen. If you don’t, then that’s okay too.” 

 I considered her words and the wisdom behind them. Perhaps that was my fear. Glancing at my past, and then forgetting to look away. Letting it consume me.

 “I don’t want you to feel sorry for me.” I told her.

 “I don’t.” She cocked her head to one side, “Why would I? All I see is somebody who has pushed herself to succeed. Regardless of what fuelled you, you’ve achieved things others can only dream about. There’s nothing pitiful about that.”

 Maybe part of me was worried what she would think of me. Or what I would think of myself. I’d blocked a lot out. I’d forced myself to forget the darker streaks of my childhood. Who knew what I would discover if I went poking about in my memories?

 I was angry at myself for bringing down the tone of our evening together. Clarke had requested something from me that should have warranted a simple answer. But, I couldn’t give her one.

 “You know, even though I couldn’t tell you what the hell this dish is called, or even pronounce any of the ingredients, it’s probably the second best meal I’ve ever had.” Clarke told me, topping us both up with wine. I admired her natural knack of easing tension. It was a gift. One of many that she possessed.

 “What’s the first?” I asked, pressing the wineglass to my lips.

 “Pancakes.” Her eyes flickered over mine, “Homemade. By a woman with unrivalled talent.”

 My heart stumbled. She might’ve been teasing me. Still, it caught me off-guard – especially because I couldn’t discover a single trace of mockery on her features.

 I placed my knife and fork beside each other on my plate, knowing there was little chance of me finishing the rest of the meal. I was content just with watching her from across the table.

 “You’re staring.” She informed me as though I wasn’t aware of it. I’d always found it easy to fix my eyes on a solitary point for a prolonged period of time. Particularly a point of interest. It had taken me a while to discover that it made some people feel strange when I didn’t look away.

 “Does it make you uncomfortable?”

 “In some regard, yes. But, not in the way you think.”

 I was curious.

 “So, in what way does it make you uncomfortable?” I asked.

 “I find it turns me on, actually.”

 “And that makes you uncomfortable?”

 She shrugged, twirling her fork around in her fingertips, “Only when I know there’s nothing I can do about it.”

 This was an interesting point. So interesting that it made me shift in my seat.

 My issue was that I was consistently turned on when in Clarke’s presence. But, it usually lurked beneath the surface of civility and societal propriety. It always became harder to suppress, however, when I knew she was feeling it too. Right now, now was when it awoke.

 I was itching for her to finish her wine. I wanted her more and more as each second passed. It was consuming. Suffocating. At first, I assumed she was playing with me on purpose – taking her sweet time to leisurely sip at her beverage. Gradually, I could see the fervour, the building need, blossom on her cheeks. Stain the cerulean sky of her eyes with a dusky blue. I knew she was fighting a losing battle with herself.

 Nothing satisfied me more.

 And nothing made me want her more.

 “You know…” Her voice was mellow. Husky. “… I have another bottle at home. Much nicer. Needs using up.”

 I nodded, almost imperceptibly. I sent our location to my driver and signalled for the waiter. He arrived soon with the bill and complimentary sweet desserts that I knew wouldn’t get eaten. I didn’t have the patience for courtesy. I paid for the meal, giving Clarke little chance to take out her purse, and left a hefty tip.

 I didn’t break away from her stare once.

 She quickly downed the wine and dipped her finger in the small cake, licking the cream off the tip.

 It just about killed me.

 Within seconds, I had her out the door.

 I didn’t even notice that the temperature had dropped in the late evening air.

 My body was burning.

 In the few moments that we waited for the driver, the ache in my stomach gaped wide. Clarke was close to me – but she didn’t touch me. I wouldn’t have been able to discipline myself if she had. I’d have fucked her right there in the back seat.

 I liked to think I had a little more decorum than that – but, I knew I didn’t. Not right then. Not with Clarke.

 And we’d been in this position before when we’d first met, but the familiarity didn’t make it any easier.

 If anything, it made it all worse. Because I knew what was in store for me.

 She gave the driver her address, a controlled calmness settling her limbs. One that I knew wouldn’t last.

 The second we were out of the car, I followed Clarke into the block of flats, never straying more than a few inches away from her body. The damned cat scarpered out of her apartment as soon as she’d unlocked it.

 I had thought Clarke would’ve led me to her bedroom, but she’d stopped walking as soon as we’d stepped inside.

 Then, she turned, roughly pushing my body against the door. It swung shut, trembling hard in its frame as my back hit the wood. Her hands were on me, searching for the zipper of my dress. I could only gasp as she closed her mouth around my jaw, peeling the dress over my skin.

 “Clarke, shouldn’t we–”

  _Oh_.

 It suddenly slipped my mind what we should or shouldn’t have done. The second she’d dragged her thumb over the thin lace of my bra, pinching at the puckered flesh with insistence. The back of my head hit the door. My dress fell past my thighs. It landed on the floor with every ounce of my self-control.

 My chest throbbed as her hand slid down my sternum, reaching my underwear. She let our eyes meet for three quick heartbeats before her head dropped. She crouched to her knees, her mouth between my legs.

 I released an unharnessed sound of pleasure as she moved her tongue against me. Over and over. Coaxing me, leading me, _owning_ me.

 By now, Clarke knew exactly the way I liked to be pleasured. Equally, she wasn’t afraid to explore new ways to make me sweat. Both elements drove me to the edge of my sanity. My fingers tightened in her blonde locks, my nails grazing her scalp.

 And when she pumped her fingers in and out of me, her other hand squeezing my hip, I knew there was no hope for me. I came hard. Over and over.

 My legs shook.

 The palm of my hand slapped against the door.

 Her name left my lips.

 Clarke looked at me, then. Hunger in her eyes.

 A hunger that _had_ to be fed.

 

.::. _C_ .::.

 

  I barely had time to appreciate the exquisite image of Lexa’s body as it heaved against my front door. She had me on my feet in seconds, her strength making me weightless. Her fingers curled around my elbows, holding me to her for a blinding moment of quiet intensity. She searched my face before pressing her lips to mine, her kiss unbearably slow. Unbearably profound.

 I sunk into her, surrendering.

 Then, I was floating. My legs wrapped around her waist as she lifted me off the ground. How she carried me down the corridor to my bedroom without faltering was a mystery to be explained. Even as she lowered my back onto the mattress, I was still locked onto her, our kiss unbroken. The only time she allowed us to be apart was when relieving me of my dress. She cast it aside, taking in the sight of me as I lay naked at her disposal.

 I felt her hands explore every inch of me, fingers stroking over my skin. I knew she’d seen the goosebumps raise on my arms, but she chose to keep her ego at bay, deciding instead to run her lips over my wrists.

 It was excruciating. The way she paid attention to every detail of my body. My senses heightened with every touch.

 I’d been ready for her long before we’d even set foot in the restaurant. Everything she’d done and said from that moment had magnified that need, and I wasn’t sure how much more my body could physically take. Fortunately, Lexa knew exactly when to give in to me. And she did, crouching down on the floor so her head was level with the mattress. She wrapped her arms around my thighs, pulling my legs to rest over her shoulders.

 She’d done all of the ground work already, so as her tongue flicked over me once, I crumbled. She hesitated then, hearing the moan as it escaped me through gritted teeth, and feeling my body as it rippled in white hot gratification.

 “Clarke, did you just–”

 I couldn’t tell if she’d finished her question or not. I could hear nothing over the blood throbbing in my eardrums.

 When I could finally raise my head to look at her, I had the sudden urge to laugh seeing the surprise written so blatantly on her face. Had there been any breath left in my lungs, I might have. As it was, all I could do was stare at her.

 It didn’t help, though. She still looked utterly bemused.

 “Yes, Lexa.” I managed after several seconds of recovery, “Yes, I did.”

 For a moment, she didn’t seem to know what to do, still holding herself between my thighs.

 Bizarrely all we could do was regard each other through wide eyes.

 “That’s never happened to me before. I promise.” I told her, adopting a slightly masculine tone to my voice. I wasn’t sure she’d appreciate the humour or not, but it was all I could think to say.

 Her lips parted, a melodic sound filling my ears.

 For a second, I wasn’t sure where the noise had come from until I noticed her smiling.

 No, not just smiling.

 Laughing.

 Normally, I wouldn’t have been taken aback by somebody laughing at me. But, this was Lexa.

 And it was the first time I’d heard her laugh.

 Granted, it was short and soft – but it was more than I’d expected from her. And it was perfect.

 “Surprisingly, that’s never happened to me either.” She remarked.

 When I said nothing, she tilted her head to one side, “Are you alright?”

 “What? Yeah. I just… lost myself for a minute.”

 Lexa waited for me to explain myself.

 “You laughed.” I expanded, recalling the way her entire face had changed.

 The hard, impassable demeanour she usually wore had slipped away. I saw a glimpse of her. A real glimpse.

 And it was beautiful.

 “I wasn’t laughing _at_ you. I mean, I knew I was good, Clarke, but I didn’t know I was that good.”

 I shook my head, sitting up and pulling her onto the mattress with me, “No, that’s not what I meant.”

 Her smile faded, but her eyes remained unguarded. Free.

 “I’ve never seen you laugh before. Not like that.”

 Her breath caught in her throat. I probably tricked myself into thinking I’d seen her blush. But, I was certain her cheeks were just a shade darker than usual.

 “Well, maybe you’re not as funny as you think you are.” She quirked an eyebrow, mildly amused.

 I was drawn to this new dimension she displayed. I wanted to see more.

 “Oh, come on. We both know I’m hilarious.” I returned, leaning back into the pillows, and sending her a mock-affronted glare when she said nothing, “You would disagree?”

 “Whole-heartedly.” She lowered herself down beside me onto her front, her elbows propping her up.

 “Okay. Maybe I should come prematurely more often, then. If that’s the only way I get to see you laugh again.”

 I watched her hair relax over one side of her neck, the stark contrast of pale eyes against olive skin burning into me. She rested straight white teeth over her lower lip, her head tilting to one side, “I’d be happy to try make that happen.”

 “Oh, you and me both.”

 Leaning forwards, Lexa claimed my lips with hers, soft and undemanding – the polar opposite of how she’d kissed me earlier. I stole her lip, sucking gently, but it was enough to make her shudder.

 After a moment of delicious silence, she pulled away, her eyes drifting from mine to glance about the room.

 Then, they widened.

 I creased my eyebrows in confusion, wondering what on Earth could’ve taken her attention so quickly.

 With unopposed grace, she slid off the bed, landing on her feet. I raised my head upwards, my eyes following her movements.

 She walked over to the easel in the corner of my room, standing directly in front of the canvas. Her eyes flickered between me and the painting, an undecipherable expression on her features.

 “You’re an artist?” She asked.

 I shook my head, resting my palms on the mattress as I sat upright, “No. I mean, not really.”

 “But, you did this?” She scanned the image, studiously.

 “Well, I haven’t finished it yet. Still a work in progress.”

 She seemed at a loss for words, still absorbing the textures of the painting.

 Eventually, she glanced back over at me, “It looks like part of a galaxy.”

 I nodded, “That’s because it is. It’s one piece of a collection I’m working on. I’m spreading the image out over nine canvases. This one is number seven.”

 “Where are the others?” She asked.

 I reached under my bed and grabbed a large plastic box, rolling it out, “The other pieces are in here.”

 Lexa crossed the space between her and the bed, “Can I see?”

 “If you like.”

 She folded her legs beneath her, sitting elegantly on the carpet, lifting the canvases out of the box.

 “What inspired you to paint these?”

 I shrugged, “I’ve always had an interest in space and astronomy. My dad trained as an aerodynamic engineer, but he always wanted to be an astrophysicist. When he was well, he used to take me out to the observatory upstate. He also had this telescope he was really fond of, so I’d usually spend my nights as a kid looking up at the stars with it.”

 Lexa watched me, listening to every word I spoke.

 “So, this is based on the things you saw?”

 I shook my head, “Not exactly. I suppose it looks a little more psychedelic than the real thing. But, I wanted to create a part of the galaxy never seen before.”

 “How can you, if it’s never been seen?”

 I laughed, “That’s sort of the whole point of creating something, isn’t it?”

 “And you say you’re not an artist.”

 She fell silent after that, her eyes lingering on mine, leaving me feeling utterly exposed.

 Something else must’ve sought out her attention because she suddenly lowered her gaze, lifting up an A4 piece of paper.

 “Is this him?” She asked, holding up the charcoal sketch for me to see.

 It was an old picture. One I’d drawn some years ago. The paper was yellowing, the defined lines of the charcoal smudged. It wasn’t anything particularly special, but I’d been fond of the picture because my dad was smiling in it – a smile that crinkled the corners of his eyes. An expression that had become rarer towards the end of his life.

 “Yeah.” I nodded, “I drew that before he passed. I don’t really remember what it was that made him laugh, but he was talking to my mother about something at the time. Probably reliving their wild days as youths, or something.”

 Truthfully, it had been the last time I’d ever properly seen him laugh.

 Lexa nodded, sifting through other sketches I’d done of various people – some I didn’t even know I still had, “You have a unique gift, Clarke.”

 “Thank you.” I rotated my ankles, listening to the bones in my feet crack before I stood up, pulling on an old university campus t-shirt on over my head, “I’m going to fetch us a drink. And your dress. I can’t be dealing with Octavia’s fury this evening.”

 Lexa nodded, reluctantly seeming to put the lid back on the box, sliding it back under my bed.

 In honesty, I needed a moment to catch my breath.

 My heart was still hammering violently in my chest. I had Lexa’s searching gaze to thank for that.

 Her sincerity was blinding. She handled my character with a respect I’d never been shown by anybody before.

 As I opened my bedroom door, I heard a slam. Followed by something that sounded like Octavia crying.

 Shit.

 I picked my way down the corridor, preparing myself to receive a distraught housemate in my arms when I stopped myself short.

 She wasn’t crying at all.

 As I neared the kitchen, I could hear Lincoln’s voice, too.

 I was wholly unprepared for the sight I beheld as I rounded the corner; Lincoln’s back against the front door, his boxers on the floor, and Octavia on her knees.

 They hadn’t even noticed Lexa’s dress.

 “Jesus Christ.” I muttered, turning on my heel, leaving them to it.

 I was just glad I’d had Lexa there first – and made a mental note to never have her there again. Not now it was contaminated with straight sex.

 Lexa looked up at me from the bed as I re-entered the bedroom.

 “Drinks are gonna have to wait.” I told her, shutting the door softly behind me and going to turn on my laptop, “In the meantime, I’d like to block out whatever sounds we might hear over the next hour or so.”

 She didn’t say anything, evidently still processing what I’d said. Or processing my ass beneath the hem of my shirt. One or the other.

 I slid into bed beside her, pulling the duvet up around our middles, and rested the laptop between our laps, “How do you feel about documentaries?”

 Lexa glanced at me as I plugged in the earphones, “Documentaries? They’re… I have nothing against them.”

 “You don’t watch them, do you?” I handed one of the wires over to her and placed the other one into my ear.

 She smiled, faintly, “I’ve always preferred reading.”

 “Probably because you’ve never seen Louis Theroux or David Attenborough.”

 I selected a documentary that I assumed she’d appreciate and settled back into the pillows, my leg resting beside hers.

 Occasionally, a thud or a strangled cry would interrupt the bliss, but I knew it wouldn’t be too long before one or both of them would inevitably tire out. They’d been at it for a good 40 minutes.

 “What do you think?” I asked.

 I felt Lexa’s hand move to rest over my thigh, her fingers tracing light patterns over the skin, “It’s good. Interesting.”

 “Still prefer books though?”

 “Still prefer books.” She agreed.

  I wasn’t sure which episode we’d got to when I fell asleep. I did wake briefly when Lexa shifted beside me, shutting down my laptop and placing it back on my desk with the earphones.

 “Stay.” I mumbled, tiredly.

 I wasn’t sure if she ever replied to me. I was still caught in the hazy in-between of sleep and awareness. All I could register was a warm body pressing carefully against my back.

 

…

 

 When I awoke the next morning, my body seemed to realise I wasn’t alone before my brain did. Naturally, I eased closer to the source of heat, Lexa’s arm tightening around my waist. Her hand was pressed to my ribs, underneath the fabric of my top.

 I lay there for a moment, feeling thoroughly content.

 I knew she was already awake – she probably had been for a while. I recalled her saying some time ago that she had never been a good sleeper.

 “It feels early. Is it early?” I murmured, refusing to open my eyes, lest the light burned them right out of their sockets.

 “Good morning to you too.”

 I poked my toe out of the duvet to gauge the temperature, and pulled it straight back into safety once more.

 “Did you sleep at all?” I asked.

 “Yes. Despite your snoring.”

 “Lies.” I muttered, “I don’t snore.”

 I could feel her smirk against the back of my neck, “No. You do sleep talk, though.”

 I already knew that. I sometimes woke myself up when shouting out aggressively amidst a stressful dream. Usually, though, it was nothing related to what was happening in my head.

 “Did I say anything interesting?”

 “You confessed your undying love for David Attenborough.”

 I scoffed, “You sure I was sleeping? I do that when I’m awake.”

 “Should I be jealous?”

 “Definitely.” I nodded, finally rolling onto my back, deciding it was likely safe to open my eyes, “Do you want breakfast?”

 Lexa paused, her fingers brushing along the underside of my breast, “… Maybe.”

 “You don’t sound very committed.” I shifted my head so I could look at her. I was met with a cloudy green stare, “Ah.”

 Lexa cocked an eyebrow, her eyes flickering down to my lips.

 “I suppose breakfast can wait.”

 She inclined her head, artfully rolling up the bottom of my t-shirt, “I suppose it can.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was too lazy to write a summary.   
> I know this chapter was a little shorter than usual, however I hope it was still just as satiating.   
> Again, thank you for your comments. Please, continue to let me know your thoughts and opinions. I love hearing from you.
> 
> Lady Of Cythera  
> xox


	14. Chapter 14

.::. _C_.::.

 

 Sometimes, I was dying to know what she was thinking.

 Most of the time, she was unreadable.

 Her lack of vocal expression didn’t help either.

 But, I knew she was _always_ thinking.

 She had her hip pressed against the kitchen counter, her body draped in my clothes. We’d collectively agreed it might not be the most appropriate to wear her sexy black dress for breakfast. Not that I would’ve minded seeing her in it again.

 Or minded stripping it off her skin again.

 However.

 Seeing little alternative, I’d offered her a pair of work-out shorts (that I’d only ever wore once in my life, or something) and a long grey jumper. Lexa was slimmer than me so the jumper was baggy on her frame, almost covering up the shorts completely. Lexa was also taller than me, and the way the tan expanse of her toned legs stretched endlessly beneath did things to me. Serious things.

 I poured her a coffee and slid it over to her whilst she watched me commence cooking.

 It was the sort of expression that left me feeling more exposed than when I was just in my bare skin. What was she thinking?

 I was dragged out of my thoughts before I could begin some kind of internal debate by a voice.

 “Oh, you’re cooking?”

 “Yes, Octavia.” I waved the spatula in the air in response to the new presence in the kitchen, “Doing a twilight shift. So, I have time for a change.”

 I turned, seeing Octavia stifle a yawn as she stepped into view. She stumbled a little as her eyes landed on Lexa, evidently not expecting company.

 Fortunately, she recovered and sent Lexa a wide smile – probably too wide. It was starting to look a little freaky.

 “Nice to see you, Lexa.”

 Lexa inclined her head, courteously, “And you too.”

 There was a beat of silence, broken by Lincoln who had entered the room in his pyjamas, “You cooking, Clarke?”

 “You’re as bad as each other.” I muttered.

 “Oh, come on.” Octavia strutted towards me and wound her arms about my side with a grin, “I’ll pretend I didn’t notice the dress on the floor when I came in last night.”

 I raised an eyebrow, “Yeah? Did you notice that before you got on your knees? Or after you’d stood up?”

 Octavia’s mouth dropped open and she lightly slapped my arm, “Clarke!”

 “What? You were the one who did it.” I flipped the bacon.

 “I think it was during it, actually.” Lincoln remarked, a little late to the party, “It got tangled around your feet, didn’t it?”

 “Not helping, Linc.” She grumbled.

 I smirked, “Now the truth comes out. Look, both of you go and sit down quietly at the table. You can have some breakfast, but only because I don’t want to spend any longer talking about what dirty deeds you both got up to.”

 “Thanks, Griffin. I am in your debt.”

 “Constantly, it seems.”

 I piled all the components of the full English breakfast onto separate plates and brought them over to the kitchen table.

 “Here you go, you leeches.” I addressed Octavia and Lincoln who happily helped themselves to bacon.

 “So, how’s everything going with the club, Lexa?” Octavia asked, filling the silence as she poured herself a glass of orange juice.

 “It’s going well, thank you. What is it you do? I don’t think Clarke’s told me.”

 “No, she rarely talks about anybody except herself.” Octavia sent me a wicked smile.

 “I talk about you all the time.” I stepped on her foot under the table in revenge, “How I’m plotting your demise.”

 “Ha, ha.” Octavia rolled her eyes, returning her attention to Lexa, “I work in forensics.”

 “With the police force?”

 She nodded, “Yeah. I only graduated from university recently, so I’m still finding my footing.”

 Lexa’s hand found my thigh under the table and she squeezed, gently, “I imagine you’ve seen some interesting things, then.”

 Octavia nodded, “Well, I have. But, it’s not as exciting as it sounds, really. I’m not really involved with homicides or anything at the moment. It’s mostly just boring stuff like searching for DNA in carpet thread.”

 I suppressed a whimper as Lexa’s hand slid further up my leg, her fingers slipping beneath the fabric of my shorts, “And that’s what you want to go into? Post-mortem examinations?”

 Only _she_ could turn me on whilst talking about dead bodies. Octavia would be examining Lexa’s dead body if this carry-on continued any further.

 “Not yet, exactly. I mean, maybe eventually. But, I do want to be in the thick of bigger crime scenes.” She shrugged.

 I might’ve been shocked at how easily Lexa carried the conversation, had her fingers not been teasing my underwear. As it was, they _were_ teasing my underwear. And I could pay very little attention to whatever else was occurring in my surroundings.

 “Are you alright, Clarke?” Lexa turned to me, a diabolically concealed glint in her eye.

 I cursed her inwardly, clearing my throat, “What? Yeah.”

 “You looked like you were choking, that was all.” Her faux innocence riled me. But, not half as much as her fingers did.

 Then, she pulled away, going to take a calm sip of her coffee.

 Quickly, my hand skidded over her thigh to rest between her legs. I ran a finger delicately over her centre, applying just enough pressure to make her almost spill her drink. She didn’t spill it, though. She was far too controlled for all of that. But, I got enough satisfaction out of the way she pursed her lips tightly.

 After that disruption, the rest of breakfast actually went moderately well. I managed to ignore the charged space between our bodies for long enough to finish my meal. Or most of it, at least.

 “You two can wash up.” I indicated to Octavia and Lincoln, rising to my feet.

 Lexa stood, setting her glacial stare on mine. Without another word I turned towards my bedroom, knowing how quickly she would follow me.

 The second the door shut behind us, I vowed to myself I would –

 “ _Oh_.”

 Lexa was on me before I could vow anything.

 Her hands claimed my hips, bringing them firmly against hers. Her lips were on my throat, my back against the wall.

 Honestly, there wasn’t much more I could’ve done to regain control after that.

 But, I was okay with that.

 More than okay.

 

.::. _L_.::.

 

 Clarke lay sweating beside me, her chest rising and falling at rapid speed. I felt no shame in watching. She managed a breathless laugh when she caught me.

 “Don’t tell me you haven’t seen enough of my boobs in the last 12 hours. You’ve already fucked me three times.”

 I quirked an eyebrow, dragging my eyes back up to her face, “Only three? Is that all?”

 Clarke ran a hand through her hair, arching her back slightly so it cracked, “Right. I forgot you have inhuman stamina.”

 I trailed my fingertips over her stomach, watching the goosebumps rise on her skin beneath my touch, “No, you didn’t.”

 “No. I didn’t.” She angled her head to one side so she was facing me, “I remembered after my seventh orgasm.”

 “Seven.” I repeated, mildly entertained, “I’ve deprived you.”

 “I’m certain you’ll find a way to make it up to me.”

 I smiled, softly. Her eyes lingered on my lips, prompting me to lean over to kiss her. I fell captive to her warmth and the way she caved into the bedding beneath me.

 The languid movements of her mouth drained the concept of time from my thoughts. I could’ve stayed wrapped up in her for longer. But, the sound of her alarm pulled me back to the unpleasant reality that we both had other commitments. Clarke’s a little more pressing than mine.

 I ran my tongue over her lip, slowly, before pulling away and getting to my feet.

 “I suppose it will be another week before we can resume this?” Clarke asked, sliding out of the duvet.

 I glanced over at her, finding my dress from the previous night and stepping into the fabric. It was cold compared to her skin.

 “It doesn’t have to be.” I murmured.

 She considered this before nodding, “I’m on twilight shifts for most of this week, so I don’t finish until late.”

 “As a club-owner, I have a strict bedtime routine. Lights out at 8:30pm.” I was preoccupied in sending my location to my driver and therefore missed the majority of the lengthy withering look Clarke was delivering me.

 “Would hate to ruin that by turning up at your house in nothing but skimpy lace at midnight, then.”

 The image of this distracted me. I judged that she had noticed something about the change in my general demeanour because she was smirking.

 Clearing my throat with subtlety, I smoothed down my dress, “In compensation, I suppose I’d have to ruin the lace.”

 “Just the lace?”

 “And everything underneath.”

 Her teeth rested delicately on her lower lip, “Well, then, I look forwards to disrupting your bedtime routine.”

 That made the two of us.

 She followed me out the door, and I glanced over to Octavia and Lincoln lounging together on the sofa.

 I bowed my head, saying goodbye to each of them before departing. Clarke watched me go, her fingertips resting lightly on the door handle.

 

…

 

 I had kept myself busy over the next few days. Or, rather, I didn’t have much of a choice. Between meetings and other occupational demands, I’d been burning off excess stress by pushing my body to its limits. When I didn’t want a sparring partner (or, primarily when I didn’t want human interaction of any kind) I trained in my basement. I could blast heavy rock music through my speakers and beat the punch-bags with as much brutality as I liked with the knowledge that the entire basement was soundproof.

 And I had a lot of excess stress.

 I’d met with Dante Wallace, the named CEO of Mountweather Pharmaceutical Corporation, that morning. It seemed Cage had permitted himself to go AWOL. Dante conveniently had no knowledge of his son’s plans to revert back to old practices, and he assured me that he would do all in his power to put a stop to his “untimely recklessness”.

 I respected Dante just enough to allow him some time to rectify the mistakes made on his son’s part, but that didn’t mean I trusted him. It wasn’t in my nature to sit by idly and wait for somebody else to get the job done. I couldn’t put that amount of trust in anybody. Indra had volunteered to oversee the group directed for the manhunt and she had sworn that darling Cage would be in for a rude awakening. I thought about what I would have planned for him. The idea of getting my revenge was a pleasant notion.

 I pounded my knuckles into the dummy, savouring the satisfying strain on my muscles.

 Without permission, recollection of Clarke’s conversation with me blossomed to the forefront of my mind. I knew she was concerned about the darker touches of my job. I couldn’t blame her. After all, she stood for preserving life. Saving it.

 Not taking it away.

 Most of my morals tended to lurk in an ambiguous grey area. I did what I had to in order to secure the success of my businesses and the safety of my employees. Cage was a threat to both of those aspects. And he continued to be a threat until he was silenced.

 The more I thought about it, the harder I struck out at the dummy. I knew Clarke would’ve opted for a more diplomatic solution, but I just didn’t have one. Not right then.

 After another half hour had passed, I tossed my gloves to one side and wrapped a towel around the back of my neck. I caught a glimpse of my appearance in the reflection of the mirrored wall to my left, exhaling. I needed a shower.

 Reaching over for my phone to take a glance at the time, I found myself drawn to a new notification from the minx herself.

 

_[15:16] From: Clarke_

_Do you want your bedtime routine disturbing tonight?_

_[17:58] To: Clarke_

_I think you already know the answer to that._

 

 I occupied myself for the next twenty minutes standing underneath the cascades of hot water, making a mental note to introduce Clarke to the various pressure settings later.

 

_[18:32] From: Clarke_

_You could’ve let me down gently. Never mind, I’ll find someone else who I can disturb._

_[19:01] To: Clarke_

_No. You won’t._

_[19:03] From: Clarke_

_Why, Lexa, do I detect a trace of jealousy?_

 

 I finished drying my hair, styling it to rest over one shoulder. Clarke _did_ detect jealousy. Naturally.

 

_[19:17] To: Clarke_

_I was never taught how to share._

_[19:39] From: Clarke_

_In that case, I’ll see you tonight._

 

 I pulled on a pair of tight black jeans and a thick, long-hanging jumper. Once I’d eased into my leather jacket and headed downstairs, I grabbed my car keys. I had the feeling that Clarke would likely be hankering for a drink upon her arrival. I knew she generally favoured wine, but my stocks were running low. I kept an eclectic range of spirits in the cellar, but I wasn’t sure how she would take to the taste of vintage Macallan whiskey.

 I set off in the direction of my preferred winery – it wasn’t the shortest drive, but it was the most worthwhile. The quality of the content was unrivalled by any other in the city. It usually took around an hour to get there, but I knew Clarke wasn’t going to be done until late. I had time.

 “ _Bonsoir, mademoiselle_.”

 I inclined my head by way of greeting, “Jacquez.”

 “ _Ca fait longtemps depuis la derniere fois qu'on s'est vu_!”

 “Absence makes the heart grow fonder.”

 Or so I’d heard.

 “ _Oui, oui_! What’s the occasion?” He asked, stepping out from behind the counter to join me in the rustic space of his winery, “Celebration? Solitude? _Amour_?”

 I tilted my head to one side, regarding him carefully.

 I had known Jacquez for some years – I frequented his establishment whenever I pleased, knowing he always selected the exact wine acquired to my tastes. And mood. He had a gift for it. He straightened out his waistcoat, running a hand through his greying hair.

 “Ah. Your silence speaks volumes, _mademoiselle_.” He winked at me, his face crinkling in a warm smile, “May I suggest this _Perrier Jouet Belle Epoque Blanc de Blancs Champagne_? Enticing and demanding… your beautiful young lady friend would not resist!”

 I hesitated, watching as he held the bottle out in front of me with a flourish of his hands.

 “ _Non_? Perhaps something a little more understated? Subtle?”

 I inclined my head.

 “Ah, I have just the bottle.” He made his way towards the shelves at the opposite side of the room, “ _Chateau Ducru-Beaucaillou._ Come, come. Sample.” He busied himself behind the counter, fetching me a small glass of the liquid. I pressed it to my lips, tasting the wine on my palate.

 “ _Oui_?” He asked, tentatively.

 “ _Oui_.” I agreed, finishing off the glass and returning it back to him.

 He picked up the unopened bottle and carefully placed it in protective wrapping, “ _Très bon_! Can I do anything else for you?”

 “ _Non, merci_.” I took the bag and bowed my head, “ _Bonne nuit_ , Jacquez.”

 “ _Mademoiselle_.” He grinned, swanning over to open the door for me, just as a couple wandered through together, “Enjoy your romance.”

 I very much had the feeling I would.

 Even though the prospect of seeing Clarke again left a peculiar fluttering sensation in the pit of my abdomen. One that I didn’t have the words to describe.

 I recognised the car the second I’d turned the corner onto my street.

 It wasn’t Clarke’s.

 I passed through the electronic gates and flipped off the ignition, stepping out onto the gravel. A dim light poured through the window of my kitchen, filtering into the darkness of the night.

 It took me all of five seconds to unlock my door, place the wine down in the lobby, and clasp a hand around the throat of the intruder facing away from me. I pulled the body towards me, pinning an arm behind her back, “You should’ve known better, Anya.” I warned, softly.

 The woman took a hold of my hand and broke free of the cage I’d trapped her in, lurching forwards with her fist clenched.

 I caught the punch easily, twisting her wrist around to expose her elbow. I applied the smallest amount of pressure to the joint, letting her know how simple it would be to snap it.

 “Alright, enough.” She grumbled, pulling her arm free, “That’s hardly the greeting I was hoping for.”

 “No, but it’s the one you expected.” I allowed my arms to hang by my side, briefly observing her appearance, “Was it really necessary to break in? I might’ve killed you.”

 Anya scoffed, tossing her hair over her shoulder and cocked her head, “You already knew I was here. You saw my car outside. Besides, there is a child present. Killing me would be highly inappropriate.”

 “I still might’ve killed you.” I glanced over at the boy sitting at the high kitchen counter.

 He offered me a small smile, “I wouldn’t have minded.”

 “Exactly. Aden agrees.” I returned his smile, focusing my attention back to Anya, “I presume you’re just dropping by, since this is quite an unprecedented visit.”

 She wasn’t listening. She was busy examining the wine I’d retrieved from the lobby.

 “It’s almost as if you knew I was coming.”

 “This isn’t for you.” I set about boiling the kettle, swerving the bottle out of her grasp, “I suppose there’s a reason why you’re here?” I prompted again.

 Anya was busy pouring herself a tumbler of whiskey, her back to me, “I don’t know. I got the sudden urge to drop by and make sure my little protégé wasn’t ruining everything for herself.”

 I walked purposefully over to where she stood and leaned back against the counter, “You know that isn’t my style, Anya. I’m afraid if I ever allowed you to assume I was your protégé, then that would be ruin in itself.”

 She sipped at the whiskey, turning to face me with a smirk, “No need to be so rude.”

 I said nothing further, taking the whiskey from her hands and knocking the rest of it back. I presumed she would get to the heart of her visit sooner rather than later. The sooner the better.

 Sending me a distasteful glare, she took her glass – no. She took _my_ glass back and refilled it once more, “I heard about what happened with Gustus.”

 I waited, reserving my suspicions about the true nature of her presence.

 “Lexa, listen. I…” She averted her eyes, her fingertips drumming lightly against the kitchen counter. I pushed away from her and went to pour a cup of tea for Aden, placing some biscuits on a plate, and setting them down in front of him.

 “You’re worried about me.” I acknowledged, a little frostily.

 “I’d have assumed that was a given.” She quipped, sharply.

 I looked away from her to conceal my irritability, taking a seat beside Aden instead.

 “I’m not saying you can’t handle yourself, Lexa. You can. God, I know you can.” She wasn’t just saying that to appease me. I knew she meant it. But, I still despised it all the same, “But, this is a threat aimed at you. And a threat aimed at you is a threat aimed at me. Do you think I’m going to sit idly by and let that happen?”

 I sighed, folding my hands in my lap, “You’re a bit late for that. It’s been taken care of.”

 “I thought as much. But, if I was facing this level of threat, would you ignore it?”

 I shook my head, almost imperceptibly.

 “Then, I rest my case.” Anya picked up her wineglass once again, “Look, I’m not trying to suffocate you. I just want you to know I’m here for you. Besides, I thought the trip would do Aden some good.”

 Before I could respond, the doorbell rang.

 “A visitor? At this time?” Anya smirked, “This will be exciting.”

 I hadn’t forgotten that Clarke was supposed to be coming over. I had just banked on Anya being several miles away before her arrival. I buzzed Clarke in through the electronic gate and flashed a warning glare over to the inconvenient female presence in my kitchen, saying nothing.

 I headed over to the front door and opened it up, seeing Clarke standing on the other side of the threshold with blonde hair flowing over shoulders. Her cheeks were pinched with the crisp autumn breeze, her blue eyes a stark contrast to the pale pink of her lips.

 She quirked an eyebrow at my motionless response, “Planning on keeping me out here all night?”

 I blinked, stepping aside and letting her through into the lobby, “Can I take your coat?”

 She locked eyes with me, a playful smile etching onto her mouth, “Absolutely.”

 Slowly, she began to unbutton her coat, revealing her pale skin beneath the material. My eyes must have widened – what other reaction would I give to seeing her breasts so snugly fitted in a skimpy light blue lace piece?

 It took every ounce of self-control I had to catch her hand, my throat tight. She tilted her head to one side, confusion flickering over her features.

 “What is it? Aren’t you in the mood?” She sounded as though she couldn’t believe the words that were leaving her mouth.

 Oh, I was definitely in the mood.

 And now, this evening just got considerably more complicated.

 I tried to explain why I couldn’t allow her to strip off in my lobby, but how was I to properly explain Anya?

 “I would keep it on for a moment.” I murmured, resting my hand on the small of her back, trying to contain my breathing. I led her into the kitchen, having zero expectations for how she would react.

 Clarke’s eyes landed on Anya immediately. They observed each other carefully.

 Anya’s expression darkened, “So, you must be the other woman.” Her voice was ice cold.

 I could’ve killed her. Flat out murdered her.

 She was sitting cross-legged on my counter, balancing the whiskey tumbler in her fingers.

 I noticed the shade pass over Clarke’s stare as she glanced between Anya and Aden.

 Before any more damage could be done, I stepped forwards easily, “Allow me to introduce you to Anya.” I gestured to her with a taut nod of my head, “My soon-to-be estranged sister. And Aden, my nephew.”

 Clarke looked utterly and completely bewildered.

 “Lexa doesn’t like to talk about me much.” Anya focused her attention on Clarke, “I’m the big family secret, you see. Just been released from jail.”

 “She’s also a pathological liar.” I muttered, “She lives out of city and just dropped by for an impromptu visit. If anybody is going to jail, it will be me when I throw you out my window.”

 Anya grinned, “Defenestration isn’t your style, Lexa. Anyway, I’m not a total liar. See, you obviously haven’t told your friend about me.” She lowered herself to her feet and extended a hand towards Clarke, “It’s a pleasure to meet you…?”

 “Clarke.” She shook Anya’s hand, seeming to be processing everything with care, trying to read the general atmosphere of the room.

 I wouldn’t have even attempted it myself.

 “So, I presume you have access to all the embarrassing pictures of Lexa as a child?” She asked, recovering quickly. I knew she was joking. Clarke probably presumed there wouldn’t be any pictures of me as a child to hand. I wasn’t sure any even existed.

 “There are some things you just can’t un-see.” Anya smirked again, “We keep the pictures locked up in a box within a box because child Lexa was probably the least photogenic person in the family.”

 “Again. A pathological liar.” I interjected. She spoke as if our family was larger than just the three of us.

 Clarke laughed, quietly, “Now, I just feel like you’re in denial, Lexa.”

 I shifted my gaze over to hers, raising an eyebrow and choosing to keep silent.

 “Well, I like her already.” Anya grinned, downing the rest of her whiskey.

 “I’m glad somebody does.” Clarke teased, going to sit down opposite Aden, “So, do you two live far?”

 “About a three hour drive away, so it’s not too bad.” Anya shrugged, “But traffic and roadworks added an extra hour and a half.”

 “You must be pretty tired then, huh.” Clarke addressed Aden.

 “A little.” He nodded, smiling shyly at her.

 “A little?” My sister repeated, “You slept the whole drive.” She ruffled her son’s hair.

 “It’s a wonder he got any sleep at all with your driving.” I jibed, noticing the way Clarke had begun to examine me in quiet interest.

 The back of my neck prickled.

 “Dunno what you mean. Aden loves my driving. Don’t you, Ade?”

 He just shuddered and resumed drinking his tea.

 I set my eyes intensely on Anya, waiting for her to finally acknowledge she was beginning to test my patience.

 Truthfully, she’d probably acknowledged that long before Clarke had arrived.

 Said junior doctor must’ve read my mood and quickly decided to strike up easy conversation with Aden, providing me the perfect opportunity to close in on my sister.

 “I imagine you have accommodation for tonight?”

 Anya chewed on her lip, “It was sort of a last minute decision.”

 I studied her, hard. She was keeping something from me. I presumed she’d been putting on this entire front to avoid worrying Aden. He was mature for his age, but he was still a kid.

 “I see. You can both stay in the attic. The guest bedrooms up there are already prepared.”

 Anya inclined her head, “Thank you, Lexa.” She cleared her throat and turned to her son, “On that note, its bedtime. Come on, Ade. Let’s leave these two to their evening, shall we? Say goodnight.”

 He pushed away his cup of tea, the trace of an entertained smile on his lips – one I presumed Clarke had drawn out of him, “Goodnight, Clarke.”

 “Night, Aden.” She winked at him, and the gesture did not go unappreciated. Not by me.

 Experimentally, he turned towards me, and it caught my attention that he’d gained a few inches since the last time I’d seen him. The top of his head was as high as my shoulder.

 “Goodnight, Aunt Lexa.” He managed, uncertainly.

 I rested a hand on his back and pulled him lightly into my side, feeling him lean close, “Sleep well. There’s an extra blanket in the closet if you get cold.”

 He broke away from me and trailed behind his mother up the stairs.

 Clarke waited until the sound of footsteps had faded before she turned to me, taking a steadying breath. I was already pouring out the wine, deciding she would probably need it the most out of all parties currently situated in my home.

 “Come on. Let’s sit more comfortably.” I led her through to the living room, tossing a match onto the fireplace.

 Clarke lowered herself onto the comforts of the leather settee, “This wine is incredible.”

 I internally thanked Jacquez, sliding to sit beside her with my own glass in hand.

 We stared at the slow burning logs for a short time before Clarke finally let go of her thoughts.

 “So…” She said, at last, “You have a sister. And a nephew?”

 I inclined my head, slowly, “Yes. She’s my half-sister by blood.”

 I could see the brimming questions behind her eyes, despite how hard she tried to conceal them.

 “I didn’t meet her until I was 13. She was 18 and pregnant with Aden at the time.” I began.

 Clarke nodded, cautiously, “It’s okay, you know. You don’t have to explain.”

 Hesitating, I passed the time by tasting the beverage.

 “I never even knew she existed.” I finally disclosed, quietly, “She’d been in the system, too. She had some DNA tests that linked her to me. I never asked about our genealogy and she never told me. But, she found me.”

 Something unreadable marked her features, and she glanced away from me, focusing on the wine.

 “I hope this hasn’t ruined anything.” I began, an uneasiness settling in the pit of my stomach, “This isn’t how I’d intended the evening to go.”

 Clarke shifted her eyes back to me, reaching across to slip her hand over my thigh, “Okay, Lexa, I want you to listen to me.”

 I wasn’t aware I was holding my breath. Not until Clarke opened her lips once more.

 “You could have 12 siblings and 24 nieces and nephews all rock up at the same time and I would still be here. Even if they really had all just come out of jail, or something.” She laughed huskily, pulling her legs up onto the cushions and folding them beneath her, “The point is, I’m here because I wanted to be. I’m _still_ here because I still want to be.”

 Something deep rooted in my chest stalled, and I felt my jaw slacken at her words. I moved my hand to hers, carefully tracing my fingers up to her elbow. There was something indescribable about the thickened tension between us. I moved forwards, the need to feel her close to me overcoming every doubt.

 She gasped softly into my mouth as I joined our lips together. She returned my kiss, undemanding but wanting.

 I pulled away for just long enough to take the wineglass from her fingers, placing it alongside mine on the clear coffee table. Her nose brushed my jaw as I turned back to face her, just far apart enough to slide my gaze over hers.

 Her hands wrapped around my waist, pulling me so I was hovering above her. I dipped my head down to kiss the corner of her mouth, slowly working at her coat buttons. I explored the recently exposed skin with my mouth, kissing my way down to her chest and lingering between her breasts. She freed her arms from the sleeves, arching her back so I could push the coat onto the carpet, her breath suspended somewhere behind her sternum. Her jeans were next. She helped me dispose of them so I could reacquaint myself with the bare shape of her rear.

 With gentle purpose, I rested both hands either side of her ribcage, raising my head up to examine her lacy number in full. It complimented the shade of her skin, the blue of her eyes and it left me hungry. Starving.

 I dragged my hands down her sides, feeling each groove of her ribs beneath my fingers, until I found her hips. She hummed at the touch, her lips parting and her eyes closing.

 It was perhaps unhealthy for my ego to know I could make her feel like this. The suspense of holding her so deliberately in my palms, just watching her tremble for me – it was enough to send my mind spiralling.

 As much as I got off on the way her body looked wrapped up in lace, I wanted to see her. All of her.

 I unfastened the bodice from her torso, my eyes absorbing the stretch of her skin. I pulled my hand down the centre of her body until it reached her underwear. She watched me, heavily.

 Tucking my finger beneath the elastic, I carefully removed the article from her middle, letting it fall onto the pile of her discarded clothes.

 “Lexa, I want to see you too.” She uttered, stealing my gaze with her eyes.

 I inclined my head, allowing her to roll my jumper upwards over my head. She observed me thoroughly, her arm reaching behind my back to unclasp my bra.

 The deafening throb of my heart against hers left me light-headed.

 I knew it felt different with her this time.

 There was still a sense of urgency in my fingertips to pleasure her. But, it wasn’t messy or unharnessed. I wanted to take my time in consuming her, tending to the parts of her I might ordinarily neglect.

 Settling myself between her legs, I lifted her hips so her calves could clamp around my waist.

 I rocked against her, every curve of her body moulding to mine.

 She whimpered against me, her lips pressed to my shoulder.

 As I eased my fingers into her, her teeth closed around my skin, sending a raw ache through my limbs.

 I kept myself close to her, coaxing the stifled moans from her mouth. Her hand snaked along my spine, pausing at the base of my neck to curl her fingers into my hair.

 Her heat clung to my skin, her thighs beginning to clench around my hand. My hair fell over her chest as I lifted my head, picking up the pace of my movements. I wanted to kiss her. Every inch of her. Slowly, my lips lowered, running over her breasts, her ribs… her stomach.

 “ _Lex_ –”

 She caved against the leather as I pushed my mouth between her legs, one hand flinging out to grab onto whatever object was closest to her.

 I slipped in and out of her, over and over, until she released everything she had in one loud cry.

 Her legs tightened around my head, a string of disjointed curses leaving her lips.

 I kept going, furthering the contractions of her muscles right up to the point that she fell limp beneath my mouth.

 I didn’t bother giving her any time to collect herself as I crawled up her body, kissing the underside of her jaw. Her hands rested on my waist, her chest meeting mine as she worked to regulate her breathing.

 Carefully, she began to push me backwards, shifting my legs around so I was sitting upright. I let her shift me; there was intent behind her eyes as she placed both hands on my shoulders. Within moments, she was straddling my lap, her shins resting either side of my thighs.

 Automatically, I took a hold of her hips, reminded of just how well she could manoeuvre them. Her body rolled seductively against mine, evoking a quiet sound of approval from my throat. I could only watch her, hold her, as she displayed her incredible form in front of me.

 It was gradual.

 Sensual.

 The fluidity of her hips was derailing.

 Somehow, in one flexible curve, she’d slid down to the carpet, supported on her knees. Before I could process the methods of her design, she had whipped my knees apart, her lips fastening to the inside of my thigh. She trailed them delicately over the skin, pausing occasionally to suck against the tenderness of my muscles.

 It was maddening.

 My head dropped backwards, one hand tangling into her hair as she ended her journey in the crook of my thighs.

 Her tongue was velvet, leisurely stroking over me with practiced skill. She didn’t tire. She was easing me to my peak at a calculated pace, leaving no part of me untended to.

 Right when I needed her to, she quickened the movements of her mouth, no longer guiding me, but carrying me.

 Her fingers curled into me, driving me closer and closer until I lost every ounce of control.

 I shuddered violently, the waves of gratification rippling through me, pierced by Clarke’s gaze as she watched me finish.

 It took me some time to come back down, but she was already back at my side when I did.

 We sat for a moment, just listening to each other breathing.

 I wasn’t sure what she was thinking. Despite her expressive features, I often found her difficult to read.

 As for me, I no longer possessed the capability to think.

 Let alone speak.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, thank you for continuing to read my work. Please, feel free to let me know your thoughts.
> 
> (It's late and my brain is not handling words well at this point, so there is a lack of summary).
> 
> Thank you.
> 
> Lady Of Cythera  
> xox


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Life is getting in the way of regular updates. It happens - but, I'm still fully invested in getting these chapters out as quickly as possible.
> 
> I hope you all enjoy this chapter. Your critiques are highly valued, so please don't be shy! Let me know your thoughts.
> 
> xox

.::. _C_ .::.

 

  _Fuck_.

 Every nerve ending beneath my skin was aflame. Even when between Lexa’s legs, I still carried the elation; the pleasure.

 It was unfamiliar, though.

 She had rarely exposed more than just a glimpse of this side of her.

 Sure, she was still deadly silent.

 Intimidating.

 Quietly commanding.

 But, she had touched me so softly – tenderly, almost – that it brought me to ruin.

 How?

 She was a hunter. A powerful one. Always poised. Always aware. Always in control.

 Usually, when we fucked, it was raw and animalistic.

 A constant battle of dominance. And though I hated to admit it, she usually won.

 Every time we fucked, it was different – of course it was. But, this time, it was _different_.

 I could feel her thick, intoxicating stare on my skin. It was like she was willing my thoughts to spill themselves from my lips.

 That was something I couldn’t allow.

 Why?

 Because I was scared. I was beginning to tread into the depths of her complex character, and the last time I’d done that, I’d lost her.

 I believed her when she said she wouldn’t push me away again. Or, rather, I believed that _she_ believed she wouldn’t.

 There was still always this part of me that whispered nobody would stay if they discovered who _I_ really was.

 I avoided her eyes and reserved my thoughts for another time.

 “Are you okay?” She asked me, quietly.

 I inclined my head and stifled a yawn, “Just tired, I think.”

 “Am I that exhausting?”

 I managed a smirk and nudged her shoulder with mine, “You and that inhuman stamina.”

 She observed me for a second too long before she rose to her feet, “And you wonder why my ego is so out of control.”

 I shrugged, mirroring her movements, pulling on my underwear and gathering up my clothes, “It works in my favour, so I can’t complain.”

 I wasn’t fooling Lexa. I could tell.

 She kept her silence, though.

 Even when we got into bed, there was a palpable and unspoken tension sitting between us. I wanted to break it. I wanted to revert back to how it was before I’d gone and overthought every damn detail. But, for some reason, I couldn’t.

 We lay in the darkness, side by side, until Lexa slowly rolled towards me. She said nothing, but draped her arm over my stomach, sliding her hand to rest on my breast – a favoured spot of hers.

 It did help a little, having her touch me. I relaxed slightly, angling my head marginally closer to hers.

 “Goodnight, Clarke.” She murmured just by my ear, “And thank you.”

 “For what?”

 “For being here, despite everything.”

 I had to close my eyes so she wouldn’t pick up on any sort of emotion that might betray me. In response, I covered her hand at my chest and squeezed gently.

 I pretended to be asleep long before I was. Lexa was still awake when I drifted off; motionless but conscious.

 The next morning, I was awake earlier than usual, noticing the empty space beside me.

 Lexa must have already been up.

 I gave myself a few minutes to adjust to the diluted light creeping in through the gaps in her dark curtains. Once I’d used the bathroom and got myself changed, I made my way downstairs where Anya was sitting at the table with a hot mug of coffee.

 I felt a little awkward, as though I was intruding.

 “Morning, Clarke.” She offered me a smile.

 It was the sort of smile that chilled my blood.

 “Good morning.” I returned the smile with as much warmth as I could muster, “How are you?”

 She shrugged, raising her mug, “I’ll be much better when I’ve had my coffee. There’s a mug on the counter for you. Lexa left it there for when you got up.”

 “Where is she?” I asked, walking over to the kitchen side so I could prepare myself a drink.

 “She took Aden to the corner shop. They’ll be back soon.”

 I nodded, feeling suitably unsafe with just Anya in the house.

 It wasn’t that I disliked her. Not at all. In fact, she had a charm about her that I found quite easy to take to. I supposed my main concern was the fact that she was Lexa’s half-sister. Lexa herself was a terrifying creature to behold, and Anya was no exception to those traits either. She was flawless, and she had that same all-knowing look about her. As though she could peel back every secret I possessed with one simple stare. The main difference between the two was that Lexa was disciplined. Controlled. Anya appeared a little less… well, stable.

 There was somewhat of a familial resemblance – the olive skin tone, the apathetic stares. They even had a similar build; both tall and slim. But, everything about Anya’s features were sharper. Cutting, even.

 Lexa, although deadly striking, was somehow softer. Endearing.

 Then, saying that, I probably only thought that because she’d let me see that side of her.

 I stirred my coffee and resumed a bar stool at the high kitchen counter where she was sitting.

 “So, what is it you do, then? Presumably aside from my sister.”

 I tried not to blush, but I highly doubted I was successful.

 “Oh, well, I’m a junior doctor at the ER.” I took a sip of the beverage, willing the caffeine to absorb into my bloodstream as fast as possible, “What about you?”

 Anya appeared amused, for some unbeknownst reason.

 “I have a couple of businesses.” She answered, vaguely, “How did the two of you meet?”

 “At Polis, actually.” I shrugged, “Is this where you tell me you’ll break my legs if I do anything to hurt your sister?”

 Anya laughed, throatily, “God, no. I’m sure that would go without saying. Of course, it wouldn’t just be your legs. It would be your arms, too. And then your neck.”

 I swallowed a large mouthful of the hot liquid, trying not to crease my face up as it burned my tongue, “I’ll bear that in mind. I’m quite fond of fully-functioning limbs.”

 She grinned, “Most people are.”

 The silence stretched on just long enough for the uneasiness in my stomach to swell.

 “So, have you two been seeing each other long? Or is it just a… you know…?”

 I did know. I knew exactly what she meant. Whether she’d intended it as a dig or not, it regurgitated my thoughts from the previous night.

 “I’ve known Lexa for about half a year or so.” I played it as safe as I could, giving away very little.

 Anya nodded, “Ah. It’s like that, is it?”

  _Like what?!_

 Thankfully, the door opened and Lexa materialised in the kitchen with Aden at her side, preventing the conversation from taking any further unexpected turns.

 I wasn’t sure how Lexa managed to look as though she was on the front cover of every fashion magazine ever, regardless of what she was wearing, every time I saw her. She wore her signature black skinny jeans, boots, and a top with a shoulder cut-out design. It wasn’t extravagant, but it still left me breathless. She always did.

 Her eyes landed on me from across the room, “You’re up.”

 “Observation of the century.” Anya interjected, rolling her eyes.

 Lexa paid her no mind and headed over to the counter with Aden, “Do you have time for breakfast?” She asked, “Aden wanted to help me make it.”

 I smiled, “That would be nice, thank you. What are you making, Aden?”

 “Waffles.” He helped Lexa unpack the carrier bags, “Is that okay?”

 “That’s more than okay with me.” I assured him, “Are you a pro cook like your Aunt?”

 He shrugged, shyly, “Not yet. But, I want to be.”

 Anya watched her son with fondness, “Don’t poison us, will you?”

 “Don’t listen to her.” Lexa spoke, quietly, “We can put extra poison in her waffles.”

 “It’s the best flavour.” I remarked, earning a smile from Aden.

 He had an endearing manner about him; intensely serious, like the rest of his family, but I felt that was probably a learned behaviour. He had a gentle countenance and a hint of eagerness in his eyes. One that made me wonder what Lexa had been like as a child.

 I watched her as she gave Aden the ingredients, prompting him with softly uttered instructions. Again, I felt my chest tighten. This side of Lexa, nurturing and tender, was unfamiliar. Part of me hated seeing it. Maybe because it was something I wasn’t used to.

 Or maybe because it heightened her appeal.

 Immensely.

 Occasionally, I would feel her gaze slide over my face, and it left me burning in my own skin.

 Each time I would fall deeper into my own head, my inwardly directed frustration increasing each time. Why couldn’t I let myself just _be_?

 Why did I have to ruin every good thing for myself?

 Maybe because I was worried that this wasn’t a good thing. Or at least that it would end as a bad thing.

 It didn’t help that Anya was scrutinising me during breakfast.

 I didn’t let my reservations show throughout the ordeal – in fact, I remained as pleasantly confident as I could, joining in with the conversation changes and complimenting Aden on his expert cooking skills.

 I checked my phone for the time once breakfast was over and took the dirty plates over to the dishwasher.

 “Leave it.” Lexa said, softly, directing a single glance towards her sister.

 I hesitated by the counter as Anya rolled her eyes, “Alright, fine! I’ll clean up.”

 She stood up and ushered me away from the sink, “Go on. Clear off.”

 I handed her a knife and fork, “Can I trust her with sharp objects?” I stage-whispered to Aden as he wandered past with his empty plate.

 “Not at all.” He grinned, placing the pots on the side and heading straight for the living room.

 “He’s right.” Anya agreed, spinning the knife artfully around her fingertips.

 I left her to it, making my way towards the stairs to collect my things together ready for work.

 I slipped into the bathroom, touching up my makeup enough to stop myself from looking like I worked in the morgue, rather than the ER.

 “Something’s on your mind.”

 I dropped my mascara brush into the sink accompanied with a sharp “Fuck!”

 I caught sight of Lexa’s reflection in the mirror as she stood in the doorway, unperturbed at my reaction. Instead, she just waited for a more reasonable response.

 I picked up the brush, running the tap to get rid of the black smudge in the basin, “How long have you been standing there?”

 “I was right behind you the entire time.”

 Either she had been soundless, or I was too absorbed in my own head to notice her presence.

 Either way.

 I wanted to procrastinate this conversation for as long as possible because I…

 Well, just because.

 “Stealthy.” I remarked, returning to fuss about with my makeup.

 She just watched me, saying nothing.

 There was only so much more blusher I could have applied before I ended up looking like a ragdoll.

 Slowly, I zipped up my makeup bag and turned around, leaning back against the sink with my hands resting around the rim.

 “You’re nervous.” She observed after a few moments, taking a step towards me, immediately commanding the space between us with surety.

 If I wasn’t nervous before, I definitely was now.

 I probably tried to say something, but nothing happened. No words left my mouth.

 Her eyes paralysed me.

 “Do you want to be alone?” She asked, her tone strangely soothing.

 I shook my head, mute.

 “Do you want to talk about it?”

 Again, I shook my head.

 I didn’t even totally know why I was suddenly so afraid. What was there to be afraid of?

 I let her see only the parts of me I was comfortable with. The parts I thought _she’d_ be comfortable with. Yes, I’d let her see some weakness within me. Yes, she coaxed the vulnerability out of me on occasion. But, just enough to keep her intrigued. Just enough that she would still me as stable.

 Just enough to keep her around.

 “Honestly, I’m okay.” I told her after some consideration, “I have my final exam in a couple of days and I don’t feel prepared, that’s all.”

  _Liar_.

 I tricked myself into seeing Lexa’s shoulders relax.

 She moved closer.

 “What will help?” She asked, the distance tightening between our bodies.

  _Cocaine. Lots of it._

 “Studying. Lots of it.” I substituted.

 She inclined her head, “Do you have the time?”

 “Not today. But, after tomorrow’s shift, I have a few days off. So, I’ll probably stay up all night tomorrow drinking copious amounts of caffeine and staring at books.”

 “I know very little about medicine.” She began, standing either side of my feet so our torsos brushed, “But, if you need motivation, I can test you using your resources.”

 “Oh, you’ll test me?” I quirked an eyebrow, tilting my head upwards, “What happens if I get a question wrong?”

 “I’ll use positive and negative reinforcement accordingly.” She returned.

 I smirked. I couldn’t help myself, “Reward and punishment? Sounds to me like you’ll be nothing but a distraction.”

 “Get your head out of the gutter, Dr Griffin.” She wrapped her hands around my waist, “Or I’ll have to enforce a no-physical-contact policy.”

 “You know how much I like breaking rules.” I shrugged.

 She tilted her lips to my jaw, kissing the skin beneath my ear, “I also know how much you want to pass this exam. It’s for your own good.”

 Her breath fanned out over my neck, leaving an unsettling desire in the pit of my stomach.

 “You just enjoy watching me suffer.”

 Her teeth grazed my jawbone, all the way down to my chin, “And you enjoy a sadist.”

 Unfortunately, this was true.

 “I enjoy a lot of things.”

 “Oh, I’m quite aware.” Lexa murmured, pulling away from me.

 I made a conscious effort not to growl at the separation. She’d had me under her thumb for long enough.

 “I ought to go, anyway.”

 She inclined her head, her eyes burning as I pushed back from the sink. Part of me wondered whether she saw straight through me.

 The other part wondered if I was just plain paranoid.

 

.::. _L_ .::.

 

 “Do you think you could tone it down?”

 I wasn’t close to understanding Anya’s remark.

 Instead of asking, I just waited for her to expand instead as I walked back into the kitchen.

 “Watching the two of you is exhausting. Like, just fuck or something. Get it out your system.”

 I raised my eyebrows, leaning against the kitchen counter as Anya poured herself a glass of wine.

 “It’s two in the afternoon.” I reminded her, watching as she took a lengthy sip of the beverage.

 “And? It’s Wednesday.”

 “I see how that’s relevant.”

 She sent me an appreciative smile, “I knew you’d get it. Seriously though… You going to tell me what all that’s about?”

 If by ‘that’ she was referring to Clarke, who had just vacated the premises, then I wasn’t sure I could.

 “Meaning?”

 “I thought my relationships were intense. She’s not just a casual thing, is she?”

 I shrugged, lightly.

 I hadn’t even touched Clarke prior to her leaving for work. There had been something edgy about her demeanour. I knew she’d wanted me to believe she was stressed about her exam, so I’d played into it. She wasn’t ready to talk about what was on her mind to me – something Clarke wasn’t usually opposed to. I knew better than to push her. It was by natural deduction that I concluded the issue stemmed from last night. I _had_ considered Anya as a factor. Anya had a knack of making people feel uncomfortable. In fact, she thrived off it; thought of it as a gift.

 If it was anybody else, I might’ve connected it to her.

 But, this wasn’t anybody else.

 This was Clarke.

 I had never seen her intimidated by anybody. Not by Gustus. Not by Indra.

 Not by me.

 That was when I knew it was something deeper.

 “Well, that confirms it, then.” Anya decided, “Look at you getting friendly with a doctor.”

 “Since you’re opting for gossip, maybe we should be discussing why you’re here.”

 Anya exhaled, draining her glass and reaching for the bottle. I swept it into my hands before she got a hold of it and stored it into the cupboard.

 Petulantly, she glared at me, “Would you believed me if I said I missed you?”

 “No.”

 “That stings.”

 “No, it doesn’t.”

 Anya rolled her eyes, “Fine. Look, I want to move back here. Not _here_ here.” She gestured to the kitchen, “Partially because I know you’re facing death threats, but also because, you know, I’ve just gone through a breakup and Aden isn’t happy at school.” She spoke the last part quickly, and as though it was inconsequential. She always skimmed over the most vital aspects of her life.

 “A breakup as in… with a man?”

 Anya cocked her head to one side, “Yes, Lexa. Not everybody is gay, you know.”

 I didn’t laugh.

 “I just meant I didn’t know you were in a relationship.” I muttered.

 “If you could call it a relationship. Cheating bastard. Anyway, the point is, I don’t think Aden is coping well at the moment. He keeps waking up with nightmares and I’m worried he’s getting bullied at school. He won’t tell me, though. He keeps coming home with bruises. The private school he goes to is useless and say Aden can be ‘troublesome’ but then won’t expand on what that means.” She growled in frustration, “I just want him to be happy. To have a better life than we did, you know. But, it’s hard for him. I think he needs to be around family.”

 “What about your businesses?”

 Anya waved a dismissive hand, “I’m not worried about that. I pay people to run them for me.”

 It made sense.

 Anya was exceptional at building businesses, and running them too. But, she didn’t have the same passion for watching them flourish. She preferred to get others to deal with that for her, rather than do it herself. I, on the other hand, involved myself deeply in my establishments. It wasn’t enough just to create them and let other people take it from there.

 “Anyway, I just want to see how he gets on here for a few days. I should have called, I know. But…”

 “…You like making an entrance.” I finished.

 “That, and I wanted to surprise you.”

 “I hate surprises.”

 “Exactly.”

 I pushed back from the counter, “I have a busy day planned today, so I presume you can amuse yourself without breaking anything?”

 Anya shrugged, “I’ll try, but I can’t make any promises. What are you doing?”

 “I’m going to the gym.”

 “Wow. Exciting. Enjoy the treadmills.”

 I shook my head, “I’m not going there to train. I’m going to buy it.”

 Anya laughed, but she didn’t seem surprised, “Just going to pop out and casually buy a gym? Nice.”

 “Well, I like it, and therefore I want it. But, I’m glad you approve. I can take Aden out later on to see the city. Try and stay sober until then.”

 I left her to her own devices and exited the house, automatically turning on the radio – a habit I’d picked up from Clarke. I didn’t particularly enjoy it; the humour was brittle and the songs were average.

 But, I listened to it anyway.

   My day transpired exactly as I presumed it would. I made a successful business transaction, contacted those within my inner circle to discuss anything of relevance, and took Aden out to the city in the evening.

 He enjoyed the lights and the consistent fast pace of activity. He was a character of little words – much like myself. Anya more than compensated for our joint lack of loquaciousness.

 I cared deeply for my nephew, knowing the struggles he had faced with finding acceptance. He handled himself exceptionally, always eager to learn, always observing his surroundings; people, atmospheres, locations.

 We looked out onto the skylights from the booth in my favoured rooftop restaurant. Aden was pensive; thinking.

 I didn’t interrupt him.

 Eventually, he turned to me, “Have you ever felt like you don’t fit in?”

 I tilted my head to one side, crossing one leg over the other beneath the table, “Fit in where?”

 He shrugged, “Anywhere.”

 In many ways, Aden reminded me of myself; inquisitive, quiet, solemn, but still harbouring a deep rooted passion for success. As I did, Aden also knew he was different to most people his own age.

 “Do you want to fit in?” I asked.

 “Doesn’t everybody? Doesn’t everyone want to feel like they belong?”

 “Why do you think you have to fit in to belong?” I posed the question softly, allowing him time to consider his thoughts. I didn’t explain what I meant by my question, just as he didn’t ask me to.

 He remained focused, but I could see the small hint of frustration poking at his brow.

 “Because if you’re not accepted, you don’t belong. Don’t you agree?”

 Instead of giving him a straight answer, I let my eyes wander out onto the view of city lights, “As a child, I had a fascination with bird watching. I liked watching them soar above the sky. They were free. I became particularly fascinated with a peregrine falcon. She’d been rejected by her family because she was a little different. I watched them as they tried to drive her out of the nest. She wasn’t accepted by her own kind. Somehow, though, she survived. As she grew, she became beautiful, strong and fast. Faster than those she had wanted to be accepted by. It was blatant that not only did she belong in the sky, she owned it.”

 Aden cocked his head to one side, taking a few moments to turn it over in his mind before he murmured, “But, she still didn’t find a flock where she belonged.”

 “No, she belonged. She just didn’t find a flock that she fit into. That was the flock’s loss. Not hers.”

 “Still, wasn’t she lonely?”

 I shifted my gaze to Aden’s, “There’s a difference between being lonely and being alone. What might have happened if she was accepted by the flock?”

 He pulled his eyes from mine, staring hard at his empty plate, “I – I don’t know. I suppose she might not have become as strong as she did?” He guessed, “She might have been scared to show who she was.”

 With a sense of pride, I sipped at my lemon water to hide the telling smile threatening to pull at my lips.

 “Do you think I’m at all like the falcon?” He asked.

 I rested the glass back on the table, waiting for him to meet my gaze once more, “You are gifted, Aden. One day, you will cultivate your passions and your strengths. Once you accept who you are, like the falcon, you too will own the skies.”

 For a beat, I could see his pulse throbbing wildly in his neck before he finally opened his mouth to speak, “How did you accept who you are?”

 This time, I felt a reverse. Suddenly, I was lost in my past. I saw snippets. Snippets of sitting alone in the dark. Of my bruised body. Of my fists clenching.

 “Tomorrow, I will teach you self-defence.”

 “Like how to fight?”

 I rose to my feet, “Discipline. Self-worth. When there is nobody to defend you, you must learn how to defend yourself. You must believe you are worth defending. Then you will learn to accept yourself.”

 I took care of the bill, leading Aden back out to the car. I left him to his thoughts and he left me to mine.

 I sealed my emotions tightly, my face unmoving. I wanted nothing more than to give Aden the guidance he desired and deserved. My reservations lay in the knowledge that I would be forced to relive my own childhood. Truthfully, that was my biggest fear. Acknowledging my weakness. Recognising my vulnerability.

 As somebody who couldn’t afford either of those things, I knew it would be a challenging experience.

 I thought of Clarke.

 How she showed power through her trials. Her undying commitment to care. Part of me wanted to confide in somebody. Desperately. But, I wouldn’t know how. I’d never done it before. Not even with Costia. She was a gentle and sensitive soul. Fierce, at times – but easily diffused.

 It would’ve broken her heart to see me quake. So, I never did. Even when she passed, I held it together. I couldn’t bear the thought of her spirit watching me crumble.

 But, Clarke?

 She was a surge of flames – a wildfire. Rapid, consuming and dangerous. I doubted she realised how close she’d come to burning me straight to the core, leaving my mask in ashes. Yet, she was warm, comforting and honest. Tantalisingly so.

 What I considered weakness to be, Clarke wore as strength.

 In the comforts of my own bedroom, I used the rare moments of privacy to let myself just be.

 I stared at the pillow she had used the previous night. I could still smell the refreshing scent of her hair. It was difficult not to recall the first night we’d met, when Clarke had openly informed me she wanted to feel something. Did she still?

 For me, I had always wanted the opposite. I wanted to destroy my emotions completely. I wanted nothing to hold me back from assuming the formidable position in society. But, that night – that first night – she’d shown me a glimpse of what it was to feel.

 That perhaps in making her feel, I could feel too.

 But, with the sweet comes the bitter.

 Would she stay if she saw both?

 Or would the intensity drive her away?

 She was always present in the back of my mind, even when I wasn’t actively thinking of her. My opposite. But, a reflection of what I longed to be.

 Like the peregrine falcon, Clarke was free.

 

.::. _C_.::.

 

 Over the next couple of days, I’d felt myself begin to fill up with pressure. I couldn’t stop myself from thinking of the way I’d left Lexa – it wasn’t that I’d been abrasive with her. Just distant. Lexa was adaptable. She never imposed herself, or held any sort of expectations in how I should behave. That worked well for me, because I had never been very good at behaving.

 I was approaching the end of my final shift, caught in the indecision whether I should message her or not.

 I wanted to see her.

 I had this constant craving to have her near. Yet, I was nervous. She knew I was holding something back. I knew she was invested in me – enough to fight to have me back in her life. For somebody as stubborn as yours truly, that was quite the achievement. We had the chemistry – the unyielding magnetism; a sensation that surpassed anything I’d ever felt before. But, I knew that the shattering ache was for _more_. More than just having her skin on mine.

 It was approaching the end of my final shift and I hadn’t heard from her.

 It was possible that her comments about coming over to help me study were just foreplay to her. She was probably doing that thing that Lexa always did.

 Cryptic yet direct remarks. That nobody understood. Ever. At all.

 Sometimes, though, I deceived myself into thinking I could read her. That beneath her chilling and dominating exterior there was a gentle soul that longed to connect. Or maybe I was projecting. Maybe I wanted to connect. With her. And I was just hoping she could handle it with the grace I knew she possessed.

 Or maybe it was late and I was delirious or overworked.

 As I slung my bag over my shoulder, preparing to exit the ward, I felt my phone vibrate against my thigh.

 It was Lexa.

 But, she never called me.

 I frowned, deciding it was a pocket-dial. Just a mistake.

 Of course my curiosity shoved that reasoning out of my mind. I slid my thumb across the screen and pressed it to my ear, “Dr Griffin speaking.”

 I wasn’t sure what overcame me to cause me to answer the phone in that fashion. I imagined it was the whole delirious thing. Or the fact I didn’t truly believe she’d be on the other end of the line.

 Oddly, the fact I was received with utter silence made me realise I’d got it all wrong.

 It was _her_ silence. I could feel it. I didn’t know how I knew. I just did.

 I could feel the prickle of her baited breath creep down the back of my neck.

 So, in mild panic, I continued the facade, “Are you calling to book an appointment?”

 I visualised what her eyes might’ve been doing. Fixing motionless on a space in front of her, perhaps. Liquefying into inaccessible pools of pale green.

 Then she spoke. Her voice was dry.

 “ _Clarke_.”

 I unlocked my car and slid behind the wheel, “Yes.”

 “ _Am I interrupting you?_ ”

 “No. You’re not.”

 She seemed distracted in her response, “ _I know we never finalised anything for this evening. But, I felt I should let you know that something pressing has come up that needs my immediate attention_.”

 I admitted feeling my lungs deflate. I wanted to see her. I wanted to watch her lounge delicately on my bed, holding onto a medical textbook (maybe even wearing her glasses) just so I could tear it out of her hands and shove her back onto the mattress –

  _Griffin, stop. Middle of a phone call_.

 Instead of openly showing my concern, I directed the conversation in a different direction, “Remember you’re speaking to a doctor, ma’am.”

 There was a silence before she caught on, “ _Dr Griffin_.” She acknowledged, the mellow undertone of her voice evoking the arousal in the pit of my stomach, “ _I apologise if this phone call causes any inconvenience. However, I regret to inform you that I must cancel our prearranged appointment for this evening. I have a matter of urgent business to attend to_.”

 “Of course, ma’am. Usually, our policy requires 24 hours in advance for cancellations. With this in mind, there may still be a charge for our services.” I returned.

 “ _What sort of services?_ ”

 I raised an eyebrow, even though she couldn’t see me, “You’re not more concerned about the charge?”

 “ _Whatever the price, I could triple it comfortably_.”

 “God, you’re an egotistical asshole.” I scoffed, “But, I never say no to a tip.”

 I could hear a soft breath of amusement leave her mouth, but I knew there was an underlying strain to her tone.

 I broke character and sobered up, “Lexa…?” I began.

 She waited.

 “You’re…” I cleared my throat, “You’re okay… aren’t you?”

 There was a short pause.

 But, it was long enough to make my chest tighten.

 “ _Yes_.”

 I wasn’t convinced. Was it my place to worry about her safety?

 Whether it was or wasn’t, I did worry about her safety. And maybe she needed somebody to worry. Or at least, maybe she needed to know there was somebody who was thinking of _her_. As Lexa. Not as some terrifyingly austere mob-boss-club-owner-person.

 “Whatever it is you have to deal with, I’ll be up all night studying or procrastinating. I know I’m pretty useless, but if you need me, you’ll let me know?”

 I couldn’t read the silence.

 Then, after a moment, she murmured, “ _Thank you, Clarke_.”

 “Yeah, ‘course.” I mumbled, in attempted nonchalance.

 “ _And you’re wrong._ ”

 Oh?

 “ _About being useless. You’re not. You’re…_ ” She trailed away, quietly.

 I longed to hear what she was going to say. But, she quickly changed wrapped up the discussion.

 “ _I have to go. Good luck in your endeavours to study_.”

 “Yes, well… same to you. Good luck in… whatever it is you’re doing.”

 I didn’t want to end the phone call. I knew I had to, though.

 Before I could tell her to be safe, or any other such uncomfortably concerned instructions, I quickly bid her goodnight.

 Once more, she hesitated before speaking so gently that it made my pulse quicken in understated euphoria, “ _Goodnight, Clarke_.”

 My ‘endeavours to study’ went as I assumed they would.

 Slowly, mostly. Unproductively.

 I’d borrowed Octavia for a couple of hours, knowing she would most likely get bored before then. She failed to treat human anatomy with any kind of maturity whatsoever and resorted to making every term a dirty joke.

 “Okay, the only word I can read in this entire sentence is cavity. So, I’m just going to ask you what your favourite cavity is. Excluding any of the ones belonging to Lexa.”

 They’d become less and less witty, and eventually she just ended up doodling on the diagrams, enlarging male genitalia and such.

 “O, you’re no help whatsoever.” I berated, leaning back in my chair and groaning dramatically, “And that book wasn’t cheap, either.”

 “Look, I’m trying…” She pouted, “Okay, how about this… how would you determine the difference between… word I can’t pronounce, and… this other word I can’t pronounce? Something about sodium and potassium… and what would be the recommended immediate management for each of these conditions?”

 “Lethal injection, probably.” I rolled my eyes.

 “And you’re licenced to actually look after people?” She raised both eyebrows, glancing at me from over the top of the textbook.

 “The lethal injection is for you.”

 She appeared affronted, “Well, that’s just rude.”

 “Can you read me a couple from the neurology section? Page 874.”

 “Probably not.” She flipped to the page and lay on her stomach across my mattress, “Wow, are these brains?”

 “Yes, congratulations. You’ve passed the test, Dr Blake.” I smirked.

 “Weird to think that’s in my head.” She pointed to a diagram, looking suitably discomfited.

 “I’m not sure it is.”

 Octavia ignored me and rested her chin in her hands, propped up on her elbows, “So, you want to be a surgeon, then?”

 I shrugged, “Yeah.”

 “I don’t know who in their right mind would trust you with a spatula.” She creased her eyebrows, seeming to recognise that her sentence didn’t sound 100% correct.

 “You mean scalpel.” I prompted.

 In response, she buried her fits of laughter into her palms, “Oh, my god! Yes. Scalpel. That’s the word I was after.”

 “And you’re qualified to conduct forensic analysis on homicides? Jesus. The future is definitely not bright.”

 The Chancellor chose that moment to intercept the (failed) study attempt and settle himself on the bed beside Octavia, pawing at the textbook pages.

 “You’d do a better job of running the world, wouldn’t you?” Octavia scratched him gently behind his ears, “I should go to bed.”

 “Yes. Please, go away.” I stretched my leg out and poked her with my toe, “Thanks for the moral support, anyway.”

 She pressed kiss to the top of the tomcat’s head and rose to her feet, “Listen, you’ll be fine, Griffin. You’re the smartest person I know. You know how to kick ass _and_ surgically improve ass.” She ruffled my hair as she walked by, “Get some sleep.”

 I just smiled, “Thanks, O. Night.”

 Once she’d left, I turned to the Chancellor who just regarded me steadily from the bed. As though he was reading every thought in my head.

 “You’d worry too.” I told him, “I can’t help it. Half the time I don’t know what she does for her job except lounging around her fancy clubs watching slutty girls dance suggestively.”

 I watched the Chancellor give a sassy flick of his tail.

 “Yes – alright. Maybe I was one of those girls. And, look, I’m not slut shaming. People are free to act as they please. I mean, it’s none of my business. I shouldn’t even be questioning what she’s doing. She’s probably just… I don’t know.” I sighed, “No, don’t look at me like that. I’m not saying she’s with another girl. I’m not jealous.”

 I felt my lips curl downwards at the corners, “I wasn’t even suggesting that, anyway. I was thinking more along the lines of a dangerous emergency where she will end up being face-to-face with somebody violent. Inevitably, she will either kill them or get killed.”

 The Chancellor meowed softly.

 “No. I’m not saying I care. I don’t. It’s not my concern, after all. She’s just a convenience. Somebody to distract me from the stress of real life.” I glanced down at my lap, “Yeah, I don’t believe me either. But, it’s not like I could tell her. ‘Hi, Lexa, just thought I’d let you know that I think about you pretty much all the time and I worry that I‘m going to let myself care too much only to lose you again. Why? No reason. Oh, by the way, hope your mob antics went well last night and you killed whoever without getting too much blood on your clothes.’ See? It wouldn’t work. I’d just sound like a dick.” I ran a hand through my hair, “You’ve seen what happens when I let myself care too much. I lose people. Or they find out I’m not as okay as I let everybody believe. And then I lose them, anyway.”

 I glanced at my phone, checking the time. And also half-hoping I’d have a message from Lexa. Just so I’d know she was okay.

 But, there was nothing.

 Eventually, I must’ve fallen asleep at the desk, because when I heard the vibration of my phone, it jolted me into consciousness.

 I raised my head and looked at the screen.

 Low battery. 

 No messages.

 Just some pointless app updates.

 Grumbling to myself, I plugged it into the charger by my bed and slumped onto the mattress next to the Chancellor. He cuddled into my side, resting a paw on my shoulder as I closed my eyes.

 I appreciated his warmth – it wasn’t quite the same as having Lexa beside me. But, it helped me sleep, anyway.

 Eventually.

 


	16. Chapter 16

.::. _C_ .::.

 

 My final exam crept up on me far sooner than I’d expected it to. Time was a bitch.

 I waited outside the hall, preparing myself to turn off and hand in all electronic devices. Just as I was about to hold the power button down, a text came through.

 Just one.

 

_[13:45] From: Lexa_

_I wish you the best of luck, Dr Griffin._

 

 How dare she use that title at a time like this? Of course, it was appropriate in all contexts, except the ones involving Lexa. Fortunately, the relief overtook the slow burning desire bubbling beneath my skin.

 At least I knew she was safe.

 I felt considerably lighter as I handed in my belongings to the invigilator. It was time to focus. This was perhaps the most crucial exam I’d had. If I wanted to specialise in surgery, I had to reach at least 98% to even be considered capable at a basic level. It was challenging, of course. But, as I grounded myself at my desk, I felt serenity wash over me. I knew I could do this. I was cut out for this.

 I had experienced enough cases to be able to answer each question thoroughly and meticulously. I sent silent good wishes to Gustus, thanking him for getting stabbed, because I was able to discuss in depth knowledge of diabetes and the contraindications of physical trauma. Which was lucky. For me. Not for Gustus.

 When I’d completed my paper and checked it over multiple times, I handed it in and evacuated the premises, trying not to second guess everything.

 After turning back on my phone, I noticed a string of messages fill up my home screen in the group chat I had with the Blake siblings.

 

_[14:58] From: Queen O_

_Griff, we’re celebrating your beautiful brain tonight. Drinks on us._

_[15:03] From: Bellend Bellamy_

_Drinks on Octavia. Pleasure on me._

_[15:04] From: Queen O_

_You’re vile, you cretin_

_[15:06] From: Bellend Bellamy_

_What? Clarke loves it_

_[15:07] From: Queen O_

_Then message her in private so I don’t have to witness it_

_[15:10] From: Bellend Bellamy_

_Princess, check your inbox. I’ve sent you dirty erotica involving me and you. I copied and pasted it off a free fiction forum and just replaced the names with ours xo_

_[15:11] From: Queen O_

_Jesus Christ_

_[15:17] From: Bellend Bellamy_

_Do women actually ever use the word ‘shaft’ when describing a penis?_

_[15:19] From: Queen O_

_No. Piss off._

_[15:24] From: Bellend Bellamy_

_What about the word ‘throbbing’?_

_[15:25] From: Queen O_

_I’m serious. Piss off. You’re making me sick._

_[15:27] From: Bellend Bellamy_

_‘Pulsating member’_

_‘Slick folds’_

_‘Emptied his seed’_

_[Queen O removed Bellend Bellamy from the group]_

_[Bellend Bellamy added you to a group: Erotica Fan Club Forum]_

_[Queen O left the group]_

_[Bellend Bellamy added you to a group: I’m sorry.]_

_[16:00] From: Bellend Bellamy_

_Okay. For real. Are we out tonight?_

 I felt a laugh build up in my throat as I read through the messages, sliding into my car.

 

_[16:34] To: I’m sorry._

_This all got out of hand very quickly_

_Don’t turn that into a dirty joke, Bel._

_I think I’ll need a night out after this week_

_[16:37] From: Queen O_

_Thank god. I vote we leave Bellamy at home_

_[16:39] From: Bellend Bellamy_

_I’ll keep the bed warm for you, Princess_

_Kidding_

_Don’t remove me._

_[Queen O removed Bellend Bellamy from the group]_

_[Bellend Bellamy added you to a group: stop it]_

_[16:43] From: Bellend Bellamy_

_Okay. I’m done. Promise._

 I waited until I arrived home before I sent a response, flopping down onto the sofa with a mug of coffee.

 

_[17:23] To: stop it_

_Where are we going?_

 Once a location had been more or less decided upon, I locked my phone and switched on the news, sipping at my beverage, still not fully processing the fact that I’d finished my exams. I debated replying to Lexa. But, before I could make any sort of decision, Octavia wandered in through the door, dropping down into the armchair and dumping her bags on the floor.

 “How did it go?” She asked.

 I shrugged, “Okay, I think.”

 “You smashed it, didn’t you?” She grinned, “Either way, I’m getting you drunk tonight. You’ve been so wound up recently.”

 I frowned, “Have not.”

 “Have too.”

 “Have n–” I cut myself off, “–Okay. Maybe I have a little. But, hopefully I’ll be cool and calm Clarke from here on out.”

 “Everything okay with the lady-killer? I don’t mean that literally, by the way.”

 If only she knew just how true that might’ve been in a literal sense.

 “Yeah.”

 She raised an eyebrow, disbelievingly.

 I sometimes forgot how well Octavia knew me.

 “It’s fine. I just… I don’t always know where I stand with her that’s all.” I shrugged, hiding behind my mug.

 “Why, is she hot and cold with you or something?” Octavia asked.

 I shook my head, “Just cold mostly.” I laughed, “It’s just she’s in a dangerous line of work and I worry, I suppose. But, I’ve seen how she reacts to people worrying about her. It annoys her.”

 “Clarke, it’s in your nature to give a shit about everybody and everything. It’s also in your nature to annoy people with how much you care. It’s what makes you _you_.”

 “Thanks? I think.” I sat up and stretched, listening to my back crack.

 “Anyway, let’s get a pizza in while we’re getting ready. I’m starving. Bellamy will be round any time now.”

 It wasn’t too much later that Bellamy arrived, ambling into my bedroom and wrapping his arms around me, “Feeling good, Princess?”

 I leaned into him lightly, trying to stay focused on my eyeshadow, “I will be even better with a few pints in me.”

 He released me and went to sit at the desk, “Oh, good. I’ve got a few party favours, too.” He winked at my reflection in the mirror and I managed a small smile.

 “You’re the worst.”

 “Thank you.”

 He wasn’t welcome.

 

.::. _L_.::.

 

 “Good, Aden. Again.”

 I watched the determination settle over my nephew’s features, seeing the small hint of a smile pulling at his lips as he struck out at me again.

 He was strong. Stronger than he looked. And a fast learner.

 We stood opposite each other in my basement, bare feet pressing into the mats.

 Even though I easily deflected each of his attacks, I could feel the force of his arms. Already, his confidence was building.

 After a few more rounds, I straightened up, holding out my hand in gesture that our session had come to a close, “Enough. Go. Cool down. You’ve done well today.”

 “Fancy losing a round to me?” Anya stood by the mirrors, smirking over at me, “It could be like old times.”

 I met her stare and tilted my head to one side, “You wouldn’t make it past the first round.”

 She laughed and clicked her neck, “Wanna test it?”

 “Tomorrow. I’m needed at Polis tonight.” I informed her, taking a sip of water from my bottle.

 Anya raised her eyebrows, “Imagine needing to be at a classy club, surrounded by hundreds of attractive people and alcohol. Such a burden.”

 “Yes, well, when one of those attractive people could be playing for the other team, it makes their charms less enticing.”

 She laughed, “Other team as in…?”

 “Company.” I answered, despondently, “Not as in orientation.”

 “I see. And what about the other attractive people? Will their charms work on you?”

 I controlled myself enough to place my combat gloves into my sports bag, instead of throwing them at my sister’s head.

 “Or are we monogamous now?”

 Still, I ignored her.

 Still, Anya continued to tease.

 “Will your doctor acquaintance be there?”

 I cleared my throat, pointedly. 

 “God, you’re so gay, Lexa.”

 I felt both eyebrows climb upwards as she grinned widely at me. I didn’t even know what she meant by that.

 “I hope you manage to fit some practice in between now and tomorrow, Anya.” I headed towards the stairs, “Haven’t you heard that you get super powers if you’re homosexual?”

 “Doesn’t matter. Still going to kick your gay ass.”

 We would certainly see about that.

  _Straight people_.

…

 

 The club was as lively as to be expected. I sat with Gustus at my side. It was his first appearance at Polis since he’d been injured. He’d offered to work, but I hadn’t allowed it. In my opinion, he wasn’t ready. Since my opinion was all that really mattered, he’d had to concede.

 “How did it go last night?” He asked me, settling his hard stare on the crowds of people below.

 I gave an imperceptible shake of my head, “Dante has been neutralised. It seems Cage has taken full control of the company, so I have pulled my investment.”

 “That’s going to cause a lot of issues.”

 “Yes.” I acknowledged, “I understood from Dante that Cage will stop at nothing to continue his unethical research. They are protected, it seems.”

 “So, you’ll be going public with the information, I presume?” Gustus asked, signalling for a drink from a passing waitress.

 I leaned back in my chair, “I see no other alternative. They are breaking a contract and putting the lives of the public at risk. Public that I have a duty to protect.”

 He chugged back a mouthful of beer, wiping his beard with the back of his hand, “Are you not worried they will retaliate? Enlist the services of thugs?”

 I kept my eyes trained on the crowds, staring at them without seeing, “I’m not worried about it. But, it is a likely reaction.”

 “What will you do?” He asked.

 “We will be ready.”

 “Any progress with Roan?”

 “Actually, yes.” I nodded, “Nia seems to be in deeper debt than before. She’s losing support, and even more money. Roan is holding up his end of the bargain so far. He’s never far out of my sight.”

 As if prompted, Gustus glanced over at said gentleman, who was currently standing by the bar in my lounge, taking full advantage of all the bounty I had to offer.

 “You put yourself in danger last night.” Gustus seemed reluctant to bring it up, “What if Cage had showed up?”

 “I’m as frightened by that weasel as I am by candyfloss.”

 Had Clarke heard me say such a thing, she wouldn’t have hesitated to make a mockery of me. As it was, Gustus kept his thoughts to himself.

 “I don’t doubt your abilities, ma’am. I just don’t want you to get hurt.”

 I understood this. I was tightly bound to my inner circle. But, I was not going to hide behind them. I would place myself in the firing line again if it meant I would succeed.

 My phone alerted me to a notification. A text, to be precise. Lazily, I glanced down at the screen, my eyes widening marginally at the message.

 

_[23:45] From: Clarke_

_atr ypou put,?_

 

 What? Was this code?

 

_[23:47] To: Clarke_

_Am I supposed to know what that means?_

 

_[23:53] From: Clarke_

_Xxxhw s_

_[23:56] To: Clarke_

_Are you drunk?_

_[00:03] From: Clarke_

_No_

 

She was drunk. She had to be. Surely. It was perhaps a little early for these sorts of messages. Or at least, it might have been for anybody else. Clarke was in a league of her own. I couldn’t help the amusement gather in my chest.

 Clarke had just drunk messaged me.

 I felt a weird sense of pride at this. Maybe because it fed my narcissism. Or maybe because the thought of Clarke Griffin, a highly driven responsible medical practitioner, had trusted herself enough to communicate telephonically with me whilst inebriated.

 

_[00:11] From: Clarke_

_Yes_

 

 I’d thought as much. I might have engaged further in the conversation had I not been swerved into a conversation with the CEO of a publishing company I knew very little about. I wasn’t particularly interested in what she had to say, but Gustus was clearing his throat – a gentle prompt to remind me not to be rude. I gestured to a waitress for a round of drinks, so those in my presence could choose to occupy their mouths with liquid instead of talking to me.

 I remained amiable when this plan didn’t function as well as I’d hoped it might. For Gustus’ sake.

 But, my thoughts were on Clarke the entire time. I imagined that’s where they would stay.

 

.::. _C_.::.

 

 I knew I shouldn’t have taken Bellamy up on his offer. But, I was out to have a good time, and that’s what I planned on doing. It wasn’t like I had any exams to stay sober for anymore, and I was still feeling a little on edge.

 “What is this place, anyway?” I turned to Bellamy, the artificial elation creeping through my veins, “Since when were you into experimental jazz?”

 Octavia pushed a drink into my hand once she’d returned from the bar, “He’s not. He’s just been trying to get the barmaid laid for the past few weeks.”

 Bellamy rolled his eyes, “How did you guess?”

 She raised her eyebrows in surprise, “What? Really? I was kidding.”

 Bellamy patted his sister’s head in condescension, “As was I, dear sister. I’m here for the cheap drinks.”

 “Well, drink up quick. I can’t bear it.” She groaned, “We may as well go to DC. It’s only next door.”

 He grumbled something under his breath, knocking back his beverage and tilting the bottom of my glass upwards, “Come on, Princess. Before Octavia has a hissy fit.”

 She punched his arm, hard, “You’d shit yourself if I did.”

 She wasn’t lying.

 It wasn’t long before we’d finished the drinks, already on our way out of the bar, heading towards the booming club a few feet away.

 DC was a guaranteed messy night. Sometimes a good one. The floor was always sticky and the bouncers a little too friendly – unless you weren’t a female with an ample sized bosom. Then they were pricks. We lost ourselves in the crowd, the music pounding through my chest. I’d lost count of how many units I’d had. And how many illicit substances I had taken. It was stupid of me. I knew. But, I’d gone beyond reason. I still felt fine – good, in fact.

 It was only when Bellamy dragged us outside for a cigarette break that I felt my head spinning – like it was disconnected to the rest of my body.

 But, still fine. Still good.

 He lit the end of my cigarette up as Octavia swanned off to greet a couple of her friends.

 “ _Clarke!_ ”

 I hesitated, turning to see Niylah moving towards me.

 “Abort, abort.” I whispered, urgently. But, it was too late.

 “Hey, Griffin. Long time, no sex.”

 I laughed, a little strained.

 “Are you high?” She raised her eyebrows, sending a dark glare towards Bellamy.

 I shrugged, “Yeah, only a bit.”

 “Only a lot. You’re an idiot, Clarke.” She muttered, “Do you want to get a drink? Of water, obviously.”

 “Fuck water.” I responded.

 And fuck having a drink with Niylah.

 “By the way, I sent you a message. Which you didn’t reply to. Again. I just wanted to know if I’d left my old purse at yours. I can’t find it anywhere. It’s been months since I last saw it. And you.”

 I glanced at my phone, trying to find the message from Niylah. I got distracted before I reached our conversation thread, seeing Lexa’s name on my messages.

 I wondered if she was out.

 I probably texted her in the hopes of finding out.

 “I might come by later to try find it.”

 She didn’t say it suggestively. At least, if she did, I hadn’t noticed.

 “Yeah, sure.” I nodded, when Bellamy nudged my side.

 “We need to rescue Octavia.” He interjected, “From… Phil.”

 “Rescue Octavia?” I repeated, dumbly.

 Phil?

 Then I realised he was giving me an escape route.

 “Oh, of course. Phil. Yeah, she hates Phil. He’s such a slime.” I nodded, quickly turning to Niylah, “I’ll message you about the purse.”

 “No, you won’t. You’re a terrible communicator. I’ll call you.”

 “Okay, see you later, Ni.”

 She dragged me into an intoxicated embrace, pressing her body a little too close to mine. I felt her lips on my cheek. So, I awkwardly patted her on the back before pulling away, joining Bellamy to try and find his sister.

 I had always been attracted to Niylah – enough to sleep with her on multiple occasions. But, it had never been more than just that. Not for me. Our personalities had never quite… clicked.

 Of course, I wasn’t expecting to see the dark eyes of Indra watching me from outside Polis a few yards away.

 Slightly creepy.

 Also slightly scary, since she despised me.

 She held my gaze for a dark moment before turning away – evidently, I still didn’t have her approval. And I wasn’t _quite_ drunk enough to try and get it.

 Not yet, anyway.

 Once we’d joined Octavia, she slung an arm around my shoulders, “There you are.”

 “There _I_ am…? You were the one who ran off.” I teased, “Also, we’re going to need to move on. Niylah is here and she’s disinhibited. And I’m not drunk enough to deal with it.”

 “Not drunk enough to… Clarke, you’re smashed. But, say no more.” Octavia glanced up, her eyes fixing on something I couldn’t see yet. When my eyes eventually adjusted, I saw Lincoln standing in the queue for Polis with a few of his friends.

 “Go.” I shoved her forwards a step, “Say hello.”

 She pressed a quick kiss to my cheek, bounding off to her boyfriend whilst I finished off my cigarette, leaning into Bellamy’s side.

 He was texting somebody in his free hand, his other arm draping over the back of my neck.

 “Hey. Who’s more important than me?” I smirked, craning my neck to look at his screen.

 “I’ve been booty called.” He slid the phone back into his pocket, “I’ll deal with it later when I’m too drunk to keep you propped up. What about you? Gonna call on your girl?”

 “She’s not my girl.” I sighed.

 Bellamy just scoffed, “Yeah. Okay. You’ve never run away from Niylah _that_ fast before. So, she’s got to be more than just a good shag.”

 Yes. Lexa was definitely more than just a good shag.

 She was unparalleled by anybody in that department.

 I was definitely drunker than I’d initially thought. I wouldn’t have said half the things I did, had I been sober.

 “Well, yeah. But, you’ve seen her.” I waved a hand out in front of me, “She’s a goddess. You know she is. You were crushing on her before I was.”

 “I know and I’m still mad about that.” He squeezed my shoulder, lightly, “What’s the problem then? Go get her.”

 “Trying to par me off for your booty call?”

 “Absolutely.”

 “Ass.” I berated, “Yeah, but I care too much and she probably doesn’t care at all.”

 “Fuck off, Clarke.” He shut me down, easily, “Stop whining and tell her how you feel then.”

 Oh, yeah. Because it was that easy.

 “Talking. To Lexa. About things.” I laughed, “Emotions. That will go well.”

 Bellamy began to walk with me by his side over to Octavia, “Yes. Now, stop being a little pussy.”

 “I’m not a…” I began vehemently, before resigning myself with a sigh.

 Octavia grinned widely as we approached.

 “We going in, then?” Bellamy asked, reaching over to shake Lincoln’s hand with the one that wasn’t currently resting on my shoulder.

 The wait wasn’t as long as I’d expected it to be. Either that, or I was too inebriated to fully understand the concept of time.

 We filtered onto the dancefloor, squeezing between the club-goers. I was instantly hit with nostalgia, recalling the first time I’d ever seen Lexa and how she’d made my heart not only stumble, but stop altogether.

 “Need a top up?” Bellamy pushed a small packet into my hand, holding me close to him for a moment. I knew I shouldn’t. It was never a good idea.

 “Yes.” I excused myself to the toilets, listening to the ladies around me laughing… and probably crying. There was always one (or several) drunk criers in the female bathroom. I locked myself in the cubicle and emptied a pinch of white powder onto the ridge of my house key. Most of it spilled off the metal onto the floor, but I managed to get a tiny boost. Which was probably for the best.

 Heart hammering, I left the toilets, chancing a glance over to the VIP lounge. I couldn’t see her. I ignored the disappointment sinking in my stomach, and pressed on to try find the others once more.

 “Clarke.” Octavia nudged me, indicating up to the private balcony.

 “What?” I muttered, wondering what else could have possibly been of interest up there.

 It hit me. Like a whip. Cracking me right across my chest.

 She was there.

 Sitting at a table, leaning back easily in her plush chair with a drink balanced delicately in her fingertips. She was engaged in conversation with another young woman. A woman who was leaning close. I watched the woman tuck a strand of her shyly behind her ear.

 Seriously?

 Lexa made no attempt to respond to the subtle advances of the woman. In fact, she looked quite… bored. But, that didn’t mean her ego wasn’t basking in the attention. Her head angled away from the woman, her eyes flickering through the crowds of people below her. As though we were all entertainment. Our lives her sport. I remembered why I resented her the first time I’d met her. She had that natural arrogance that both irritated me, and pulled me in. She wore apathy so well.

 And she looked stunning. So stunning that it hurt.

 “Earth to Clarke?” Bellamy nudged my shoulder, pushing a drink into my hand, “Ah. Of course. We’ve lost you now.” He teased, “Do you want to get closer? Get a front row seat, maybe?”

 I shook my head.

 I was interested to see how she acted when she didn’t know I was watching.

 Gustus eventually dismissed the woman occupying Lexa’s time and the two of them appeared to be having some silent exchange. Lord only knew what they were discussing. Lexa hadn’t even blinked once.

 She wasn’t here for pleasure. I knew because she was more rigid than usual – not that there was much of a difference between typical Lexa and professional Lexa. Or at least, if there was, the changes were only slight. Maybe a few hues different. A shade, even.

 Shortly after the young woman had left, another filled her place; but this time, she was more forward. Was she speed dating or something? I watched the redhead rest a hand on Lexa’s arm, much to Gustus’ disapproval. God, he was grumpier than ever. Maybe that had something to do with being stabbed. I would probably be grumpy, too.

 Lexa didn’t move her arm away from the redhead, and neither did she show any reciprocation of affection.

 I found myself swept up in a particularly heavy beat, Octavia dragging me into the centre of our group, and my line of vision to Lexa was snapped.

 For a time, I enjoyed the music, but I was starting to feel particularly light-headed. It was my own fault.

 “I need some air. I’m going to the smoking area.”

 Bellamy nodded, trailing after me as we made our way to the designated area which was only accessible through the club – fortunately. I didn’t want to run the risk of Niylah seeing me on the streets again.

 I felt her watching me as I left, but I didn’t turn.

 I didn’t dare.

 “…Yeah, got a great vibe.” Bellamy slurred to some random stranger standing a few feet away, responding to whatever had been said.

 I concentrated on retrieving a cigarette, hanging back at the edge of the smoking area. I didn’t really feel able to talk at that time. I’d taken my antics just a step too far, and I was starting to feel the sickly comedown.

 There was some movement nearby, but I hadn’t registered it until I felt a slow heat crawling over my face. I lagged a little before lifting my gaze upwards to see the artificial light pouring from the club over Lexa’s skin.

 I should have expected her undiluted stare. But, I could experience infinite lifetimes and her directness would still leave my heart pounding and my chest gasping.

 “Clarke, don’t just stand there.” Bellamy had turned away from his drunken conversation to urge me forwards a step.

 Lexa waited for me behind a red rope, compartmentalising the VIP smoking area from the regulars. She looked destructively fierce. The sharpness of her features was emphasised by dark makeup, her lace attire hanging over her slender curves. The intimidation carried further as I noticed at least 189 henchmen shadowing her, their rippling muscles flexing.

 Well, about 4. But, still.

 I raised an eyebrow.

 Did she expect me to put in all the work, or something?

 I slowed my footsteps, striking up the unlit cigarette poised between my teeth, keeping my eyes trained on hers.

 “Women are so confusing.” Bellamy muttered, “What’s even happening here?”

 I mentally shushed him, knowing I was about to get my way.

 She watched me shift my weight onto one leg, tilting her head to one side.

 I exhaled a cloud of smoke through perfectly pouted lips, and she caved.

 With ease, she strode towards me, a bouncer unclipping the rope to allow her to pass through. She was utterly unaffected by the heavy stares of her security.

 “Came to get me yourself this time?” I arched an eyebrow, already feeling worked up.

 “Consider this a warning.” She breathed, darkly, “You’re playing a very dangerous game standing there, looking like that.”

 I shrugged, as if to shake the chill snaking over my body, “I like games. Am I winning?”

 Lexa made a point of draining my cockiness with a very prolonged once-over.

 “And if so,” I continued, this time a little less sure of myself, “what prize do I get when I win?”

 “You won’t. I’m feeling competitive tonight.”

 I believed her.

 “So? What’s that got to do with anything?” I challenged, easing myself into her personal space, the way she did with me.

 She gave me a simple look. One that screamed ‘I never lose’. Again, it was believable.

 I just couldn’t help myself.

 “More importantly, what happens if I lose?” I lowered my voice to a whisper; a caress.

 She inhaled slowly, her mind clearly miles ahead of the conversation. She seemed to hold her tongue, avoiding saying anything too explicit.

 Though, I knew she would’ve liked to.

 “Well, I presume this is my cue to go and get some booty.” Bellamy’s voice was a little muffled in my ears, but I managed to glance at him over my shoulder.

 “You don’t want to see who wins?” I asked, in attempt to be funny, but the hoarse crack of my throat gave everything away.

 “Wins?” He creased his eyebrows, “God, no. I don’t know what the fuck is going on. You’re both disturbed.” He shuffled awkwardly at Lexa’s dead-eyed stare, “But, mostly you, Princess.” He amended.

 Or at least, he tried to.

 Lexa could not have appeared more disinterested in whatever it was Bellamy was saying. Her eyes spared him a glance no longer than 0.5 seconds.

 “Text me if you go anywhere so I know you’re safe.” He murmured, squeezing my hand briefly on his way back inside.

 The intensity just about killed me off. On the plus side, I was reinvigorated with energy. Thanks to the magnetic pull of Lexa’s presence.

 “So, you’re just gonna keep me out here?” I asked, taking a drag of my cigarette, which had nearly burned right down to the butt due to neglect.

 “Are you saying you’ll come quietly?”

 I offered her a wicked smirk, “I _never_ come quietly.” I let my lips brush over her ear, just close enough to inhale the enticing scent of her skin. I sensed the discreet shudder of her spine, rather than saw it.

 “Well?” I let my knuckles graze against hers, “Are you going to get me a drink? It’s rude to keep a lady waiting.”

 “We’ll see how ladylike you are when I make you come.”

 She knew exactly how to do it to me. To get me this impatient. To draw out my darker side, and treat it with such careful egotism.

 “You and your presumptions.” I stepped past her, heading towards the VIP area.

 I just prayed that my confidence was taking me in the right direction. It would be humiliating and sickening if I was prevented from smoothly absquatulating. As it happened, all went to plan. Or, at least, most of it did.

 What I hadn’t expected was Lexa’s hand on the small of my back, directing me towards her favoured spot in the lounge, which was quickly vacated upon her arrival. She indicated for me to take a seat, dismissing her brutes with a slight jerk of her head.

 She settled herself beside me, signalling for a barmaid. I didn’t hear what she said, but soon enough, Lexa had passed a glass into my fingers, her body still rigid. Everything about her still controlled.

 Despite the fact we were undisturbed, we weren’t alone.

 “Tell me what you think of this.” She instructed.

 I tasted the drink, without really thinking about it.

 “What do you think?”

 I realised then that it was probably one of her creations. I took another sip, this time trying to focus on the taste.

 “It’s mediocre.”

 “Mediocre.” She repeated.

 I offered her a roguish smile, “Drinkable.”

 This seemed to tell her all she needed to know, “I knew you’d like it.”

 It was true. I did.

 How she knew I liked it, I didn’t know. But it didn’t surprise me.

 It was nicer than the first cocktail of hers she’d made me try. And that was exquisite in itself.

 “It’s got a kick to it, hasn’t it? Like a bit of a fiery taste.” I rolled the liquid over my tongue before swallowing, “If Aphrodite had a favourite drink it would be this.”

 I wasn’t really sure what I was saying, but the words were happening and I made no attempt to stop them.

 Neither did Lexa.

 Although, I was certain one of us should try and stop me.

 “Aphrodite?” She seemed amused, “Is that what you’d name the drink?”

 “No. I’d have to name it something like… Aphrodite Sunset.”

 It was the most cocktail-like name I could think of.

 “Very well.” She inclined her head.

 “Very well?” I turned to her, trying to focus on her face, but finding it altogether too difficult.

 “That’s what I’ll brand it as.”

 “Do you get all your ladies to name your cocktails?” I teased, inching closer to her – just slightly.

 “No.”

 No.

 Oh.

 I felt a laugh in the back of my throat. Perhaps it was due to humour, or perhaps it was due to my suppressed hysteria. I wasn’t sure.

 For a moment, something settled between us. I couldn’t place it. But, I didn’t like the way it felt.

 I’d gone from craving to be near Lexa, to feeling a little stupid. She was probably sober and here I was, drunk _and_ high.

 Not the best mix.

 “Clarke, are you feeling okay?” She asked me, quietly sensing the change.

 I considered this for a moment, before nodding, “Yes. I’ve been celebrating… a lot.”

 “Yes, I’ve been made aware of that detail. Do you want to go?”

 I shook my head, glancing down at the floor, “I wanted…” I trailed away.

 “You wanted what?” She was close to me, her body turned to me, one hand resting beside my thigh.

 I wasn’t about to become that person who spilled all their secrets and feelings, just because I’d had a drink. Or twelve.

 “Some water.” I finished, lamely.

 “I’m sure I can handle that.”

 It wasn’t long before she’d acquired a refrigerated bottle of spring water, unscrewing the lid and handing it over to me. I took a lengthy sip, feeling a little better, but still not particularly human.

 “Now, what is it you really wanted?”

 There was nothing underlying her tone. No impish sexual innuendo.

 Just gentle and imploring. Knowing.

 “Will you dance with me?” It was easier than saying all I’d really wanted all night was to be near her. To smooth out the jagged edges of my worries. To settle the knowledge that I was far more caught up in Lexa than I should’ve been. Than I ever expected to be.

 Gracefully, she slipped her fingers into mine, leading me down the stairs into the underground tunnel. It was thick with manufactured fog, the vibrations of the beat blocking out the voices of those nearby.

 Lexa was eyeing me through the smoke as she turned, easily setting the pace of our hips. Her hands found my waist, each fingertip pressing softly into the small of my back, “Is this what you really wanted?” She had to lean close to me, her lips hovering by my ear so I could hear her over the deafening bass.

 The heat poured over my body, sending my head soaring – way above any high I’d reached that night.

I could barely handle it. The reckless impulse to drag her to the closest surface and have her under my tongue.

 No words left my mouth for a moment. I was too overcome. Too overwhelmed with the sensation of having her in my arms, her complete attention focused solely on me.

 “Tell me.” She urged, her thumbs running over the edges of my pelvis, “What is it you’re holding back?”

 I stumbled, falling off-rhythm. What did she mean?

 “Holding back?” I pulled back to look at her – which turned out to be a mistake. There was no possibility of lying. The harsh green of eyes held this inexplicable power over me; like she could read every single thought passing through my head. Like my secrets were just child’s play to her. But, then, she had this… this look. Like _I_ was the puzzle.

 “Clarke…” Her eyes flickered down to my lips, one hand moving to the side of my neck.

 In that moment, there was nobody else. We could have been anywhere – in the middle of Times Square, on the platform of a subway at peak time – it didn’t matter. Right then, it was only us.

 And I wasn’t scared anymore.

 “I… just don’t want to lose you… and I worry that I might.” The words felt disjointed as they left my lips, but despite my physical state, I had clarity.

 “Why?” She managed, her eyes delving deep into mine, exposing me in turn.

 I glanced away, biting down on my lip, trying to find the words, “Because… I see you. And everything about you is beautiful.” I hesitated, taking a slow breath before continuing, “And I’m worried that if you see me, what you will find is… repulsive.”

 Suddenly, her dominance slipped. I saw her then. I saw Lexa. Her eyes widened at my words, lips parted. Part of me second-guessed my decision in telling her – but I had never been one to shy away from honesty. 

 For a moment, no words left her mouth. All she did was stare, her gravitational vulnerability paralysing me.

  _Say something_.

 “I do see you, Clarke.” She finally filled the aching void with her voice, “Your darkness and your light. You not only captivate me, you liberate me. With you, I can be me. The way you perceive _me_ is a reflection of who _you_ are.”

 She claimed having difficulty with expression, yet every word she spoke was poetry. Her hand rested over my chest, the thud of my heart pushing against her palm.

 I swayed slightly, immediately feeling her firm hands steady me, “Come home with me.”

 “But… what about the rest of your night?” I asked.

 She just looked at me, those startling eyes piercing me right through to the core.

 “I want to spend it with you. Away from here.” She was earnest, “If you’ll let me.”

 I might’ve ordinarily said something sarcastic, but this moment was too all too powerful and all too delicate to spoil.

 “Then take me home.” I murmured.

 She nodded, her attention to her phone for a moment, presumably contacting her driver. I dropped a more or less conceivable text in the group chat with Bellamy and Octavia to inform them I was leaving with Lexa.

 She turned, moving through the crowds, leading me by the hand towards the exit. I still found it peculiar that every person in the vicinity made efforts to clear a path for her; there wasn’t a single person in the entire room (and probably building) who was ignorant to her presence.

 Even by association, I noticed some people eyeing me with guarded interest. Lexa seemed oblivious to their stares; she was probably used to it.

 As we stepped out into the chill of the night air, I felt a rush behind my ears, the oxygen hitting my lungs sharply.

 Lexa passed a few words onto her bouncers, receiving several respectful bowing of heads. I offered a couple of awkward smiles to those who caught my eye, but tried to focus on my balance more than anything else.

 It wasn’t long before Lexa had me in the backseat of her driver’s car – and I didn’t mean ‘had me’ in the literal sense of the word. Unfortunately.

 However, an undeniable energy emanated from her – without her having to do anything at all. She would sit motionless beside me and I still felt the charged pull of her appeal. In that sense, she _did_ have me. In my mind, I was bound to her even though we weren’t touching.

 The silence settling over us was comfortable, if not needed.

 It felt like speaking would be sacrilege. The words that had passed between us prior to leaving were almost sacred.

 Or, at least, that’s how it felt to me.

 And judging by the unintended softness of Lexa’s expression and the way her fingers brushed over mine, I thought perhaps she felt that way too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading - I hope you enjoyed this chapter. I love hearing your thoughts.
> 
> Lady Of Cythera
> 
> xox


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I appreciate all the wonderful comments you've left for me. They motivate me to no end. 
> 
> Enjoy.
> 
> Lady of Cythera
> 
> xox

.::. _L_.::.

 

 From the moment I’d seen her, I knew there was something alien and yet vaguely familiar about the way she carried herself; confidently, but hazily. As though her skin was the only thing fusing each part of her person together. It took me a few seconds to process the change in her, once I’d absorbed the breath-taking view of her tumbling blonde hair and pink lips.

 After scanning her, both appreciatively and cautiously, I settled my attention on her eyes. They were the tell. There was a dullness there I wasn’t accustomed to. Yet, I noticed a strange sparkle, too – one that may have been ignited by sexual attraction, but also one that seemed altogether erratic; unfocused.

 I’d seen Clarke drunk before, perhaps not to this extent. But, this Clarke was distant.

 It hadn’t really hit me until I saw her in the light of my kitchen, where the white light fell on her skin, illuminating every detail of her face and the dilated pupils of her eyes.

 She was watching me, seeming to have sobered up a couple of degrees. She hadn’t said a word since leaving the club, except to softly thank my driver.

 I didn’t voice my thoughts immediately. I allowed myself some time to consider it.

 I concocted a drink for her instead, using a select group of ingredients from my stock cupboard, stirring the contents up in the glass. I carried it over to her, “Drink.”

 She shook her head, “I’ve had enough, I think.”

 “It’s non-alcoholic.”

 She frowned, in mild confusion, “What’s in it?”

 “Drink it.” I instructed, “It’ll take the edge off how you’re feeling.”

 Clarke seemed to accept this, albeit with an air of reluctance, tasting it gingerly and wrinkling up her nose.

 “I don’t like it.”

 “You’re not supposed to.”

 “Well, then, why make me drink it?”

 I took a step towards her, “I’ve told you. Now, keep drinking.”

 Grumpily, she relented, finishing off the remainder of the glass and handing it back to me.

 “That… well, that helped… a little.” She admitted, after wiping her lips with the back of her hand.

 I didn’t tell her I already knew it would. Now wasn’t the time for gloating.

 “So, what’s in it?”

 “Trade secret.” I returned, prolonging the length of time it took me to wash the glass. I lost myself in my thoughts, trying to place exactly what it was that made me feel as though Clarke had left a part of her elsewhere.

 “What is it?” She asked, the sudden sound of her voice surprising me.

 I turned and studied her thoroughly before I finally spoke, “What have you taken?”

 She blinked, falling back a step, her hip pressing against the kitchen counter, “What?”

 “What have you taken, Clarke?” If I sounded harsh, it was unintentional.

 If she had taken drugs, I wasn’t going to judge her for that. People celebrated in different ways. The only thing that didn’t sit well with me was the assumption that Clarke hadn’t taken illicit substances to celebrate; she thrived on feeling. But, drugs did not heighten senses in the way people always hoped they would. They were a gateway to escapism. She was a doctor. She knew that. That was how I knew Clarke was avoiding something. She had to be.

 She seemed all too comfortable with her current state for me to think this was a first-time using recreational substances. She wasn’t as unsteady as she had been, so perhaps she would be willing to communicate some honesty to me.

 “Nothing.” She muttered, almost defensively.

 “You can tell me.”

 “Can I?” There was a fury in her stare; one that I didn’t think was totally directed at me. She was riding out the silence, hoping for me to break it.

 So, after a few moments, I did.

 “I’m not asking because I’m judging you. I’m asking because I want to know if you’re okay.”

 Because I wanted to know if the words she’d said to me back at the club were a product of her mind in sobriety, and not derived from an impulsive influence.

 She took a slow breath, the heat fading from her features. Instead, she moved to sit on the bar stool, shifting her eyes to the floor.

 “I’m sorry.” She resigned, still not looking at me.

 I narrowed the distance between us, sitting beside her, choosing to let her decide whether to continue.

 Eventually, she did.

 “When I told you… about how I coped when my father died…”

 “About seeking immediate releases?” I prompted, gently.

 She nodded, “This was one of the ways I dealt with it.”

 “Is it a regular habit?” 

  She bit her lip, lightly, “Not so much anymore. It’s not like… like, I’m not addicted or a frequent user. Not really. It’s just… I kept the habit. When I’m out with Bellamy, we just slip into it. I find it hard to say no. Especially if I’m feeling….” She growled in frustration, “… you know, if I’m feeling anxious. I know I shouldn’t do it. I _know_ I shouldn’t. I could lose everything if I get caught. Sometimes, I…”

 I inclined my head, slightly.

 Briefly, I wondered why her eyes were fixed on a space at the opposite side of the room, and why her jaw was clenched so tight.

 Then, I knew.

 She was feeling. But, this time it wasn’t something she sought after.

 She was fighting to remain composed.

 When she spoke again, her voice was husky. Trembling.

 “Sometimes, I hate myself for doing it. That I’m not strong enough to deal with the fact I always have this habit of losing those I care about the most.”

 I studied her, carefully.

 It was making more sense, now. The reason Clarke had been distant with me up until the moment our bodies had been pressed together in the club. Her worry over losing people, or me in this case, ran much deeper than I’d understood. It was a fear. One that she had struggled with for a long time. Probably since her father died. Maybe even before that.

 Clarke and I rarely spoke plainly about our feelings for the other. Usually, it was all hidden in intense spurts of burning sensuality. Part of me was reluctant to acknowledge I cared for her to the extent that I did, because I too wondered if one day I would lose her because of _my_ lifestyle. In a way, she mirrored that, only in a different light.

 Outwardly, she appeared vulnerable. Exposed. The way she hunched over herself as if to keep everything in tact suggested she was finding all of this much more difficult than she let on.

 That was why I knew, in those few seconds, that Clarke was anything but vulnerable. She did not shy away from her flaws. Perhaps she did feel a level of self-loathing because of them, but she battled it. Threw herself into caring for others. Into living freely. Honestly.

 Something I had never dared myself to do.

 Slowly, I rose to my feet and stood opposite her, “Look at me.”

 With some determination, she did.

 I slid my hands into hers and pulled her upright, moving my palms to the small of her back, “I’m here, Clarke. I’m here _with_ you.”

 And I meant it. Every word.

 

.::. _C_.::.

 

 I couldn’t register the meaning behind her words. All I knew was that Lexa holding me in a way she’d never done before.

 This wasn’t her getting close to me with the intent of stripping me, or dominating me… or even kissing me.

 This was her just holding me.

 Then, I understood.

 With muscles shaking, I wrapped my arms around her middle.

 I caved.

 And she let me.

 My head found the space beneath her chin and my eyes slid closed. I could breathe her in, her scent enveloping me with an unbreakable security. I didn’t need to put up any pretences. Not right then.

 “I’m not okay.” I whispered finally, my lips brushing against her neck.

 She didn’t waver. She just held me closer, fingers trailing through my hair and down my spine.

 “I don’t think I’ve been okay for a long time.”

 I knew she was listening. The steady thump of her heart soothed me into speaking the rawest of truths. And perhaps that was a mistake, but she’d broken every defence I had, acting with such grace. She offered me no advice, no sympathy, and no guidance. She offered me only this embrace.

 And that was enough.

 All I needed.

 Nothing more.

 It was timeless and unending; yet it wasn’t long enough.

 After a while, she pulled back, sliding her hand to mine, “Come to bed. Things will feel different in the morning.”

 “If by that you mean I’ll have a massive hangover, then yes. You’re right.”

 She didn’t laugh. She might’ve been slightly amused, but she gave very little of her thoughts away.

 We were quiet as we prepared ourselves for bed, each caught up in whatever was happening inside our own heads.

 I could only hazard a foggy guess what was happening in Lexa’s. She slipped quietly into bed beside me, her skin pressed softly to mine. The moment my head hit the pillow, I felt sleep consume me thickly.

 I slept heavy, with the knowledge I would probably have little recollection of the night before when I awoke.

 My body was more or less unresponsive when I finally came round to consciousness. It was probably late on in the morning. It took me several minutes to finally open my eyes, and when I did, I found myself staring at Lexa’s bedroom wall. I didn’t adjust to the surroundings immediately. I woke up, expecting to see my own wallpaper, tucked up in my own blankets. For a reason I couldn’t yet determine, I felt a deep sense of dread in the pit of my stomach. My head was weighed into the pillows, but there was no headache. Something I hadn’t expected.

 Then, I remembered. Lexa had given me a peculiar liquid before we’d gone to bed. Maybe that was why I didn’t feel quite as horrific as I should have…

 Oh.

 Fuck.

  _Then_ , I remembered.

 Shame draped its sickly fingers over my skin, reminding me painfully of my behaviour the night before. How Lexa had witnessed me break. And how pathetic I must’ve appeared to her.

 I groaned and rolled onto my back, staring regretfully up at the ceiling. She had been so quiet that I hadn’t even realised she was still there until I felt her stir beside me.

 Her breathing was slow; controlled. I knew she’d been awake before me. She always was. I didn’t think I’d ever properly seen her sleep.

 I wasn’t sure how to respond to her movement. I felt caged to the mattress – partially to do with the excess alcohol still in my system. Partially, and mostly, due to the disgrace.

 So, I did nothing.

 Her arm glided beneath the quilt, landing next to mine. She didn’t say anything, of course, but her fingertips ran over the back of my knuckles, dragging over every bone with such tender precision that my stomach tightened. They drifted over to my palm, inducing me to relaxation. To know she still wanted to touch me, even after whatever drastic events might have transpired the previous night (some of which I was certain I never wanted to relive), was a relief.

 She left a chill over my skin with every languid stroke of her fingers. I didn’t mean for the hum to leave my throat as she ghosted over the sensitive nerve endings of my wrist, but she slowed at the sound. I angled my head to the side to gauge her reaction to find she was looking at me through heavy-lidded eyes, the lethargy slowly dissipating, and in its place, flickering intrigue.

 “You like that.” She remarked, her voice mellow and comforting. And so, _so_ fucking seductive. I doubted she even realised the impact of it all.

 “Mm.” I affirmed, lowly.

 With her stare locked on mine, she took a hold of my hand and raised it out of the blankets to her lips. She kissed the inside of my wrist, calmly watching my teeth rest over my lip. Her tongue ran across my veins, the desire building leisurely in her features.

 “You like this, too.”

 “Yes.” I croaked.

 She nodded, storing the information as she moved onto her side so her body was facing mine. The quilt covered her from the chest down, the complexion of her olive skin claiming my attention. She moved closer, kissing further up my arm until she reached the crook of my elbow, “And this?”

 My abdominal muscles twitched in growing anticipation.

 We should have just collectively assumed that I liked everything she was doing. Because I could barely bring myself to talk anymore.

 I responded by tilting my head backwards into the pillows, my toes curling into the bedsheets.

 What got me the most was how delicately, but how unchastely, she tended to the subtle parts of my body. The parts one might not ordinarily think to kiss. Now I was suitably conscious, I knew I had to take a little control back for myself. Give back to the goddess who gave to me so freely.

 Gently, I nudged her onto her back, covering one side of her body with mine as I linked our fingers together. Pushing her hand into the pillows with mine, I raised my head above hers, “How about we talk about what you like?”

 Her eyes widened as I lowered my lips behind her ear, leaving a lingering kiss on her skin, “This?”

 “Clarke…” She breathed, her back arching as I dropped my thigh between hers.

 I pulled my fingers from her palm, making a trail down her wrist, all the way to her elbow… to her shoulder… over the definition of her collarbone…

 She was weakened. Resolved. I kissed her again, but this time beneath her jaw, my fingers tucking beneath the edge of the quilt so I could carefully reveal her bare torso. She shuddered as my knuckles grazed over her breast, her breath leaving her lungs, unharnessed. I revelled in the way her body became malleable under my touch, reacting to every movement and every kiss.

 I reacquainted myself with her grooves, carrying her pleasure at my own mercy. I didn’t give into her right away, regardless of how badly I wanted to. Before I paid any attention to that part of her, I curled my fingers around the side of her neck, tilting her jaw upwards with my thumb, “Are you feeling, Lexa?”

 She nodded, a wave of uncertainty passing over her features, “Yes.”

 The corners of my lips curved upwards in a smile as I hovered my mouth above hers, gently capturing hers with a meaningful kiss. I dipped my tongue between her lips, prolonging it for as long as I could before she began to tremble with need.

 Then I gave her what I had worked her up to wanting.

 I slid my body down hers, disappearing beneath the duvet and propping her knees up as my head settled between her thighs.

 She came quicker than I thought she might, taking a handful of my hair in her fist. The tug against my scalp brought a rippling shudder down my spine.

 Once she began to sink into the bedding, I crawled upwards, leaving her with a kiss. I pushed back the sheets and dropped to my feet, Lexa watching me longingly as I made my way to the en-suite.

 “Where are you going?”

 “I have to pee.”

 A small smile crept its way onto her lips, “Eloquently put.”

 I poked my head back through the gap between the door and its frame, correcting myself, “I do apologise. I must excuse myself to the facilities in order to evacuate my bladder. Is that better?”

 “Infinitely.”

 I laughed as I shut the door, deciding to take a quick shower to rid myself of the post night-out (and post copulation) scents. I left the bathroom a few minutes later, wrapped up in a towel, to find Lexa standing by the door.

 “You didn’t let me finish you.” She informed me.

 I shook my head, brushing my fingers over hers as I walked past, “You can give it to me later. I wanted this morning to be about you.”

 She rested her shoulder against the doorframe, following my steps with her gaze, “You don’t owe me anything, Clarke.”

 I rubbed my body down with the towel before I straightened back up to meet her eyes, “I do. But, that’s not why I did it.”

 She waited for me to enlighten her.

 I just shrugged, deciding to allow her to draw her own conclusions.

 In mild bewilderment, Lexa parted her lips to speak, but stopped herself and instead turned into the bathroom, not without observing my naked body in full first.

 She materialised from the bathroom minutes later, her hair damp and her perfectly formed body hidden beneath a grey towel. I never tired of seeing different sides of Lexa, depending on her environment. I was generally the same wherever I was. Aside from at work – but, that was to be expected of a medical professional. One couldn’t take drugs on the job…

 Lexa, however, was not.

 In public, she was fierce. She held the city in the palm of her hand, dressed to kill. She was stone. Unbreakable and unfeeling. Intimidating in every regard.

 Cross-legged on the floor in front of the wall length mirror, I watched her. She was stripped down to the parts of Lexa she didn’t let others see. Despite the fact she still conducted herself with natural surety, she was gentle. Relaxed. The intensity of her eyes softened as she looked across at me, the delicate features of her face still striking. But, they didn’t cut through me as they would normally. I was content with observing her morning routine and the way she graced about her room with comfortable ease.

 “You’re staring, Clarke.”

 “Does it make you nervous?” I finished smoothing out my hair, rising to my feet.

 She quirked an eyebrow, pulling on a pair of skinny jeans over her smooth legs, “Should it?”

 “If you knew the thoughts I was having about you, it might do.”

 I saw her smile; small and enticing.

 She wriggled into a loose and artfully ripped top, pulling her hair around one side of her neck, “Surprise me.”

 I would.

 I knew I would.

 “I find you in your domestic environment adorably attractive.”

 Her eyes widened a little and she stopped midway through spraying her deodorant.

 I didn’t smirk. I wasn’t teasing.

 Perhaps that was what surprised her the most.

 She was quiet for a moment, and I wondered why – until I noticed the dusting of pink fall across her cheeks.

 She was blushing.

 Actually blushing.

 I chose not to comment and instead sent her a slow smile. She blinked twice before finally returning it and resuming with her previous activity.

 She seemed altogether more self-conscious than I’d ever seen her before – in fact, I’d _never_ seen her self-conscious. So, naturally, it was more than just a little intriguing.

 “You can stop staring now.” She attempted an abrasive edge to her tone, but I was still very much witnessing the ghost of her beam and the heat under her skin.

 I shrugged and moved towards her, swept up in newfound confidence, “Give me a reason to.”

 She stilled as I approached, slowly flickering her gaze down to mine, “Because it’s… distracting.”

 “You find me distracting?” I smirked.

 She groaned softly, something passing over her eyes – something I couldn’t quite determine. But, I liked the way she looked at me. Waiting. Wanting, even.

 “Yes, Clarke.”

 Impulsively, I leaned forwards and pressed kiss to the corner of her lips, “Can’t have that, can we?”

 I pulled away before either of us could acknowledge how unusual it was for me to bestow chaste affection on her.

Eventually, when we were both ready, we headed downstairs to Lexa’s kitchen where Anya was sitting at the counter, flicking through her phone.

 “Clarke, you and I need to stop meeting like this.” She glanced up at me with a playful smile.

 “It’s becoming far too much of a coincidence now, isn’t it?” I returned, going to switch on the kettle.

 Anya laughed, locking her phone and looking pointedly at her sister, “I told you you’d bring her home last night.”

 “No. You didn’t.” Lexa responded as she opened her refrigerator to retrieve some ingredients for breakfast. I finished making the drinks, sliding a cup of tea over to Anya, before I went to give Lexa a helping hand in preparing the food.

 “Well, I knew you would, regardless.” Anya continued.

 “Again, no. You didn’t.”

 She winked in my direction, curling her hand around the mug in front of her, “She made it out like last night was all about business for her. No enjoyment. No excessive drinking. No romance. None of that. So, it’s a good job you were there, Clarke. She would’ve been in a foul mood today otherwise.”

 Lexa glanced over her shoulder at her sister and raised an eyebrow, “There’s still time, An.”

 “You’re right about that.” She sipped at her hot beverage, “The world is my oyster when it comes to annoying you.”

 “Any tips?” I asked, unable to stop myself.

 Anya was apparently enthused by my question and she grinned, wickedly, “Oh, yes. Mixing up the order of her cutlery drawer. You know, putting a knife in with the forks and such. Switching the channel when she’s watching a political debate. Hiding one of each sock so she can’t put them into pairs. When she is walking on the left side of somebody instead of the right. Asymmetrical home décor. Leaving cabinet doors slightly ajar. Not having audio volumes on a 0 or a 5. That sort of thing.”

 I raised my eyebrows as I listened. Lexa was a meticulously precise person, so none of these things came as a shock. That being said, the thought of her getting irritated at such small behaviours was amusing. Despite the fact it suited her perfectly. Thinking back on it, Lexa had always favoured walking on my right.

 She clicked her tongue against the roof of her mouth, softly, “She’s exaggerating.”

 I helped her carry the plates over to the high-top counter where Anya was sitting, “Is she?”

 Lexa paused, lowering herself onto the bar stool before she exhaled, “No… A world without order is chaos.”

 “So if I turn the TV volume up to 26 instead of 25, a natural disaster occurs?” I teased, to which she just inclined her head.

 “Yes. Hurricane Lexa.”

 I laughed at the thought, a little uncontrollably. Her quick quips always left me with a sense of delight.

 Shortly after we’d finished breakfast, Aden wandered into the kitchen from the living room, sending me a small smile in way of greeting.

 “He’s been waiting for you to give him his lesson.” Anya told Lexa, heading over to switch on the dishwasher.

 Lesson?

 “I know you’ve just washed your hair and everything, but he won’t have time tonight. We’re heading off first thing in the morning.” She continued.

 Lexa just inclined her head, “Clarke, you’re welcome to spectate.”

 Anya smirked, “Oh, I’m sure she would love to.”

 I felt like I was missing something.

 No, I _knew_ I was.

 Lexa disappeared upstairs for a few minutes, returning in darkened athletic gear. It did something to me, seeing her like that. Several things actually.

 Her hair was pulled back, her toned body emphasised through the Lycra attire, with just the right amount of olive skin on display.

 Her gaze flickered over to me, probably sensing I was gawping, and I quickly glanced away in a failed attempt to avoid the heat creeping over the back of my neck. Whatever I would be spectating was going to ruin me. I already knew it.

 I followed the other three downstairs into Lexa’s basement, sitting down beside Anya against the wall on the mats. I watched Lexa as she handed a pair of combat gloves and padded guards over to Aden, tending to her own sporting accessories soon after.

 My thighs tightened.

 I tried to listen to whatever guidance Lexa was giving her nephew, but found her appearance altogether too distracting to let any of it sink in.

 Aden responded to every quiet instruction she gave him, taking it all in. She wasn’t gentle with him, and neither was she severe. But, she had this look in her eyes every time Aden managed to get a hit in against her. Something I’d never seen in her before. Soft and encouraging. And somehow almost maternal. Even when she spoke, her voice possessed those same qualities.

 “Good.” She inclined her head, beckoning Aden closer, passing him more pieces of advice delivered only in clipped sentences.

 I could see the precision in her movements, everything she did executed with control. She demonstrated offensive and defensive techniques in turn, and then positioned herself so Aden could practice them on her.

 He was a quick learner – I had to give him that.  I had a feeling it was genetic.

 “Ready?” Lexa straightened up, getting herself into a starting position.

 Aden gave a quick nod of his head before they began.

 I watched with interest as she deflected his attacks, knocking him where he was exposed. But, he wasn’t deterred. If anything, it spurred him on further.

 And then, by one means or another, he struck out with his fist and it collided with the underside of Lexa’s jaw. She stumbled back a single step, evidently caught off-guard, her lips parted and her eyes wide.

 There was a beat of silence where Aden hesitated, probably feeling a little self-conscious at the expression on his Aunt’s face. I suppressed a smile. Anya released a loud “Ha!” and clapped her hands together, “You weren’t expecting that, were you, Lexa?”

 Lexa ignored her sister, a look of pride mingling with her surprise as Aden wiped his forehead with the back of his hand, catching his breath.

 “Good job, Ade.” Anya rose to her feet, running her fingers through her son’s hair lightly, “Go get a drink. I want a turn.”

 

.::. _L_.::.

 

 Anya stood before me, pulling on a pair of gloves with a smirk, “I hope you’re ready for this, Lexa. It’s been a while.”

 She had been training for longer than I had. It was my sister who had first introduced me to martial arts, giving me an outlet to release my frustration. She had initially been the one to train me, but I had moved onto professional schooling once I discovered my flare for combat. It had been a few years since we had last sparred, and as I recalled, Anya had beaten me on most occasions in the past.

 But, I was better now than I was then.

 I stretched my muscles out, waiting for her to assume her stance.

 “Tell us when, Clarke.” Anya spoke, and I felt Clarke’s eyes running up and down my figure. Again.

 She had barely taken her eyes off me – and that did wonders for my ego. But, it was highly distracting.

 Clarke cleared her throat awkwardly, “Right. Okay. Uh… Go?”

 Good enough.

 We circled each other, assessing the other’s weak points, already formulating our moves.

 Anya was cocky and confident. Understandably so. She was skilled.

 But, I knew I could use that against her.

 She played with me a little first, tapping my guard with light strikes. She wanted me to bite.

 She wanted me on the offensive, so she was winding me up purposefully. Or, at least, that was what she would have me believe. She also knew I held an abundance of patience. I favoured a defensive approach, usually relying on my counter attacks to pull me through. She was trying me. Working me out.

 I prepared to hit the second she’d pulled back her arm, but she was quick to use her other hand to make her real move. Her fist glanced off my chest, knocking me backwards. Then, she advanced, tackling me to the floor, already getting ready to pin me.

 I wasn’t going to let that happen.

 I rolled to the side, overpowering her strength so she was the one now compromised. Managing to overthrow me, Anya slid out from under my hold and leapt to her feet, charging once more. I had always been quick. So, I’d seen it coming. I dodged her move and we resumed our stances, sizing each other up now we’d gotten an idea of the other’s tactical standpoints.

 “You’ve improved.” She grinned, moving a step closer.

 “I’m glad one of us has.” I inched back, my eyes flickering to her hands, knowing she was planning a sneak attack.

 “That’s just rude.”

 She suddenly aimed for my defences, slowly breaking my guard with well-practiced hits, knocking me further and further back. I barely got the chance to retaliate due to the onslaught, but I bode my time, relying purely on my stamina and hoping it would be enough to outlast hers.

 Outwardly, it would’ve looked as though I was receiving a beating. And I was. But, it was all in favour of my next move.

 I saw the opening then, and I whipped my hand upwards, connecting with her jaw. She lost her footing and recoiled from my attack.

 “Your son gave me that idea.” I told her, already advancing.

 But, Anya was ready. She dodged my next move and countered with a harsh blow to my stomach. It took all I had not to double over, but I succeeded.

 “That one was my idea.” Anya smirked, swinging her hips to aim a kick to my side. I managed to block most of the impact with my shin by speedily lifting my leg. She had her next move thought out, throwing herself into me and sending me backwards. I hit the floor, landing on my back. I stared up at her as she walked forwards, and waited until the last possible moment to push myself onto my side, sweeping my leg to take the balance out from under her. She landed with a thud, and I stood upright. She rolled backwards, mirroring my pose.

 It was back to square one.

 We circled for the third time, both smiling in anticipation at the other.

 She broke the cycle, ready with another hit aimed at my chest. I angled my shoulder back, letting her fist sail past me and used the opening to grab a hold of her wrist. I turned, dropping to my knee, using my body weight to haul her over my shoulder face down onto the floor. This time, she wasn’t going to break my hold.

 I had her arm pinned behind her back, my knee pushing down on her calves, “Any more ideas?” I asked, tightening my grip as she wriggled.

 Eventually, she stopped moving with the realisation I had her paralysed, “Alright, alright. I concede.”

 I released her and extended my hand once she’d rolled onto her back.

 Breathless, she grabbed onto my forearm, and I onto hers, hoisting her to her feet.

 “So, being homosexual does give you special powers.” She laughed, releasing me and patting my shoulder lightly.

 I smirked, turning towards Clarke, totally unprepared for the expression on her face.

 She was watching me, her jaw slack and her eyes dark.

 Anya took off her gloves and wandered over to Aden, wrapping an arm around his shoulders, “You’ve got the best teacher there, kid.”

 He nodded, smiling slightly as the two of them headed over to the stairs. It was a good job because Clarke had me hooked to her, and I needed nothing more than to have her.

 The adrenaline was still rife in my system and that combined with the look she gave me was impossible to ignore.

 “Everything okay?” I asked, stepping towards her, the traces of the smirk still on my lips.

 She glanced up at me, biting her lip, “Mm.”

 I held out a hand and pulled her to her feet so she was trapped between me and the mirrors behind her.

 She must’ve wanted to say something. I saw her toying with the words, but not a single sound left her mouth.

 Still high from my victory, I linked my fingers with hers and raised her hands so they were imprisoned either side of her against the mirrors, “Did you enjoy yourself?” I asked, slipping my leg between hers and applying a little pressure.

 She had nowhere to go.

 “God – I mean… yes.” Her voice was strained, and I felt the smile pull wider at my lips. I lowered my head and pressed a prolonged kiss to her neck.

 “You’re such a show-off.” She tilted her head back, melting into me.

 “Do you want to see what else I can do?”

 “ _Lexa?_ ” Anya’s voice shouted from upstairs, “ _Your phone is ringing!_ ”

 I growled quietly, the sound guttural and impatient.

 Clarke was right where I wanted her, wide open and at my mercy.

 The sound of footsteps thudding down the steps irritated me and I pulled away with reluctance.

 “Y-you should answer it.” She pushed back from the mirrors and tried to adjust her ruffled hair.

 I met Anya at the foot of the stairs, swiping my thumb along the screen to answer the call.

 I dealt with it as efficiently as I could, eager to return to Clarke.

 But, she’d heard the conversation.

 I knew she had because she was looking at me intently as I hung up.

 “You’re leaving town?” She asked, still undone.

 I sighed, tucking my phone into my waistband, “I have business in Boston.”

 She nodded, seeming to process this for a moment, until she eventually murmured, “Okay. How long for?”

 “A couple of weeks. I’m going tomorrow.”

 “Is it… good business?” Clarke asked.

 I arched an eyebrow, still feeling a little over-confident, “I don’t do bad business.”

 She shrugged, “You’re doing me.”

 “Oh? Does that mean you consider yourself bad?”

 “Don’t you?” She countered.

 I nodded, closing the distance between us, “Oh, yes. Terribly bad.” I tucked a lock of hair behind her ear, “But, something tells me I haven’t seen the worst side of you, yet.”

 She smirked, suddenly, “Is that an invitation?”

 “That all depends on what you’d be bringing to the party.”

 She trailed a finger over my collarbone, her voice lowering to a breathy whisper, “Well, I look hot in leather… and I’m pretty good with rope.”

 Rope?

 The thought of Clarke in those exact circumstances urged a chill down my spine.

 “Is that so?” She caught the yearning in my tones. I knew because she was grinning diabolically.

 “You like the thought of it?” She enunciated as a question, but I presumed she already knew the answer, “I get the feeling it’s usually you doing the binding and gagging, though.”

 “Gagging?” My eyes widened suddenly.

 Deliberately, Clarke circled me, positioning herself behind me, one finger running over the back of my neck.

Our positions had reversed in moments, Clarke now gaining the upper hand.

 “No? Is gagging not your thing?”

 “I… I don’t know.” I said quietly, feeling her arms winding around my waist, her stomach pressing against my spine.

 “You don’t know.” She purred, her tongue flicking over the base of my neck, “Tell me… What is your thing? Handcuffs? Whips? Being tied, or doing the tying? Or maybe none of the above?”

 I tilted my head back, finding myself out of her depth – something that happened only rarely.

 “I don’t know.” I said again.

 I could hear the excitement of her intrigue building in her throat and she released a dark, but gentle, laugh into my ear, “Would you like to find out?”

 I turned in her arms, training my stare on hers, but she saw straight through me, “What…” I swallowed, “What would I do?”

 Surprise crossed her features, “You’ve never done it.”

 I shook my head, but she didn’t laugh as I expected she might at my naivety in this subject.

 “It’s just that I…” I hesitated, “I suppose I’ve never had to tie anybody up to get them to do what I want.”

 Clarke knew that wasn’t what I was going to say; I could tell. She was observing me curiously, and instead reached to squeeze my hand, “Lexa, I’m not going to judge you for never doing a bit of S and M.” She laughed, a touch of warmth in her smile, “It isn’t for everybody.”

 “Is it for you?” I asked.

 She shrugged, a playfully enticing gleam in her eyes, “Maybe.”

 I inclined my head, slowly, “How does it work?”

 “You know, we kind of already do half of it – we just don’t have the props.” She ran her thumb tantalisingly over my knuckles, “One person dominates. The other submits. The dominant sets the rules, and the submissive follows them. The rest is all down to personal preference.”

 “What happens if they don’t follow the rules?” I murmured, certain I already knew the answer. Part of me just wanted to watch Clarke form the words.

 “They get punished.”

 I felt a spark ignite in my chest.

 Clarke was watching me with an omniscient stare. I doubted she knew what I was truly thinking. That I had reservations. I wondered if she saw only what she wanted to see. My intrigue. Both were present.

 Carefully, she slid her hand to my neck, pulling my head close to hers, “But, to do it properly requires mutual trust and understanding. And I would never ask you to try this for the first time if there was even a glimmer of doubt.”

 My chest pounded.

 I hadn’t voiced any of my thoughts on the matter and yet Clarke plucked them out of me as if reading me was simply second nature. I was wrong in assuming she saw only what she wanted to see. She saw instead what _I_ wanted her to see. I had submitted myself freely to Clarke before, and she to me. But, I had never relinquished control over my own limbs. That thought was something that provoked anxiety.

 “It isn’t that I don’t trust you, Clarke…” I began, slowly.

 She pressed a chaste kiss to my lips, her fingers grazing over the skin of my neck, “You don’t need to explain, Lexa. I understand.”

 Anybody else might’ve just been saying that to silence me, but the softness of Clarke’s expression told me she wasn’t. It told me that she _did_ understand.

 And I knew I didn’t need to express my gratitude. She understood that, too.

 She took a step back from me, everything about her gentle and endearing, “Now, as I understand it, I won’t be seeing you for a while after today… I don’t know about you, but there are a couple of things I’d like to do with you before you go…”

 She didn’t need to tell me twice.

 

…

 

 We lay in the comforts of my bed, tangled up in the blankets and in each other. Clarke was still delectably flushed, her breast rising and falling as she attempted to catch her breath.

 “Well, I’ve never made _that_ noise before.” She commented, finally.

 I felt myself laugh, softly, “I’ll add it to my record of achievements.”

 Her fingers traced patterns absently over my arm as she stared up at the ceiling. I was certain she would enlighten me to whatever she was thinking soon enough, so I didn’t push her to spill her musings.

 Eventually, she rolled onto her side, one arm draping over my stomach, “Lexa… can we talk about last night?”

 I glanced down at her, slipping my fingers into her hair, waiting for her to continue.

 “I remember snippets of what happened. I just… I’m ashamed of the state I was in.”

 “Why?”

 “Because…” She began, “I was a mess, Lexa. I said things to you that I shouldn’t have.”

 My heart didn’t falter, but my breathing stilled. I had worried that the things Clarke had told me in the club were just words without meaning. Now, I felt like she was backtracking and I would be lying if I said I didn’t feel a sting.

 “It’s okay.” I didn’t want to hear her say the words. It would hurt too much.

 “No. It’s not.” She propped herself up onto her side so she could view me properly, “I shouldn’t have said that stuff.”

 I felt my features revert back to their default positions; expressionless and unforgiving.

 “Lexa, look at me.”

 I didn’t.

 “Please.”

 Slowly, I transferred my gaze to hers, maintaining my guard.

 “The things I said to you should have been reserved for moments like this. When I’m sober and you’re unguarded…”

 I waited.

 “When I said everything about you is beautiful, I meant it. I just… I wanted you to know I didn’t just say that because I was high.  

 I released a breath I hadn’t known I was holding, closing my eyes for the briefest of moments, “I meant what I said, too.” I told her, quietly.

 “I don’t want to lose you, Lexa.”

 “You won’t. I’m here with you, remember?”

 “Promise me something?” She requested, “Stay safe while you’re away.”

 “Only if you promise me the same.”

 “Does that mean no drugs?” She sent me a wry smile.

 I pulled her back into my side, rolling my eyes, “No drugs.”

 She pressed her lips to my shoulder, “I promise.”

 


	18. Chapter 18

.::. _C_ .::.

 

 I hadn’t heard from Lexa for the past seven days that she’d been away. I wasn’t worried, as such. I knew she’d be busy. I’d been pretty bogged down with work, too. But, it wasn’t like her not to respond to a text.

 And I’d sent her three.

 Nothing too needy or panicky.

 I hoped.

 I just wanted to know she was safe. I’d been unable to shake this uneasy sensation that clung to my body like a second skin. It had been leeching on me all morning.

 “Griffin, since you’ve got time to be sitting around doing nothing, I’ve got a patient for you to see.”

 I grimaced at Emerson’s smug face as it materialised into my office.

 “I’m writing up notes.” I muttered, petulantly. I wouldn’t have minded if he just asked me nicely every once in a while.

 “Notes can wait. Strokes can’t. Besides, Rita said you were requested specifically by family.”

 Bullshit.

 “Who’s the family, then?”

 He shrugged, an air of superiority sliding off his shoulders, “What in the world makes you think that I’d know?”

  _Wanker_.

 I rose to my feet, holding my tongue. He obviously had time to be delegating, so surely he had time to see his designated patients. But, I wasn’t about to let somebody go unseen just because he was a massive pain in the ass.

 I took the patient files in my hand and took them down to the assessment room where the patient was waiting for me.

 “Hi, Clarke.”

 I felt my heart stop dead.

 Cage Wallace sat on the examination bed, indicating for me to take a seat. I reached automatically for my alarm, but he shook his head, “I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” He smiled, pleasantly.

 “Why’s that, then?” I asked, trying to remain calm.

 “Because I have a few of my own members of security here. If you pull that, they understand it to mean that you’re not co-operating.”

 I narrowed my eyes, “That’s funny, because I’m _not_ co-operating.”

 Cage gestured to a vacant chair as though it was _his_ assessment room, “I just want to talk. Nothing sinister.”

 I didn’t sit.

 “I’m going to have to ask you to leave. You’re wasting the health service’s time. Lives could be lost.” I turned for the door, but he was on his feet in seconds, stepping in front of me to block my path.

 “That’s what I’m here to talk to you about.” He held up a finger and delved into his trouser pocket to retrieve his phone, “As I understand it, the last time we spoke, you told me you had no dealings with Lexa.”

 I bristled.

 “Now, I didn’t believe you at the time. But, I’m inclined to believe you now. You’re an upstanding medical professional and I admire that.”

 Why did he believe I had no dealings with her now?

 I creased my eyebrows in confusion, “What are you talking about?”

 He scrolled through his phone, distractedly, “Hm? Oh, only that if you were still having dealings with Lexa that she’d be taking you for a fool. We know she’s in Boston, and we know why.”

 I frowned, “What?”

 He showed me the phone screen, flicking through photographs of Lexa sitting with an attractive woman in a club. It wasn’t Polis. And Lexa looked far too comfortable.

 “I don’t get what your point is.”

 “You don’t know that woman?”

 I shook my head, “Should I?”

 “Lexa is planning on publishing slander about my company, and that’s something I’m not altogether pleased about.” He slid the phone back into his pocket, “She’s taking you for a fool because she’s using you.”

 But, who was the woman?

 “Using me? Sort of like you’re trying to now?”

 “The difference is, I’m being upfront about it. Listen, your mother is a renowned doctor. Everybody who knows anything about medical research knows the influence your mother has over this hospital. Now, the woman Lexa is talking to? She’s head of a governing board of ethical healthcare practice that oversees several hospitals in several states. Very powerful woman. Can you even imagine the salary she’s on? Makes me sick.” He added as an afterthought.

 Cage was irking me immensely. Why couldn’t he just get straight to the point?

 And why was he talking about my mother?

 “Now, the issue we’re looking at here – and I’m not talking about the fact that Lexa has slept with this woman multiple times in the past because that wouldn’t affect you anymore, right?” He winked at me, knowingly, “No, the issue is that she’s speaking to this woman about the allegedly unethical practices of my company. That could bring my company to ruin. But, that’s just a side note. Your mother has shares in this hospital as I understand it. A very influential character.” He smiled again, “Now, imagine her surprise upon learning that the pharmaceutical company her hospital relies on is now up for slander. She’s signed a contract with us and she’s had a hand in our research herself. So, imagine her surprise stretch further still when she finds out her daughter beds the woman who has brought her career down to the ground?”

 There were several things to consider in Cage’s words.

  1. My mother had dealings with the company’s research
  2. If Lexa went public with the information about Mountweather Corp. then it could ruin her career
  3. Lexa had slept with the head of one of the country’s biggest healthcare governing bodies? Multiple times?



 “I need proof.” I told him.

 “Of what?” Cage returned to his phone and pulled up something on his screen, “These pictures are from a few months ago, but they still kind of show you everything you need to see.”

 He showed the images to me and I gasped. Lexa was standing in a club with that same woman wrapped around her. I blinked and slapped his hand away.

 “I meant about my mother’s dealings with your company, you prick.” I hissed, “And why do you even have those pictures?”

 He concealed a smirk and switched to another app, showing me a list of papers my mother had published with Moutweather Corp, “If you’re not going to stop your girlfriend from going public with this information, you’d better tell Mama Griffin to lawyer up. Because I can guarantee, I will do everything in my power to drag her down with the company.”

 “Pig.” I spat.

 He shrugged in acceptance, “Anyway, I’ll give you a bit of time to think about it, Doctor.”

 “To think about what? What an ass you are?”

 He laughed, easily, “I’m sure you don’t need time to think about that. I meant, time to think about calling off your girlfriend from her crusade.”

 He stood to his feet, leaving me dumbfounded, “I’ll send all the proof you need to your inbox.” He paused by the door, “I hope you understand that I don’t like blackmailing people. It makes me uncomfortable. So, I’ve resorted to this because I feel I have no other choice – well, except violence. But, I like that even less. However, it should be noted that I will do both if I have to. And it’s dealer’s choice who gets hurt. Be smart about it, doctor.”

 I let him leave, still trying to process everything.

 I couldn’t trust him. That went without saying.

 Mute, I stood up and walked back to my office, spying Emerson on my way back.

 I just stared at him.

 “That was quick, Griffin. False alarm?”

 I didn’t answer.

 “Look, I know you’re pissed off at me for delegating et cetera. But, that is part of my job as the senior. On the plus side, you’ve got plenty of time to finish up your notes now.”

 “Did you know?” The words left my mouth, drying up somewhere along the way.

 “Know what?” He seemed genuinely confused.

 I took a step closer, “Answer me.”

 He dropped back, holding up his hand in insincere apology, “Griffin, calm down. I’m sorry it was a waste of your time, okay? But, it wasn’t my decision. Rita said–”

 “–I don’t _care_ what Rita said. My question is: did _you_ know?” I glared at him harshly, watching the smug little light in his eyes begin to fade.

 “Know _what_?” He asked, frustration replacing his pompous smile.

 I took a steadying breath, realising I was taking this a little out of proportion, “Look, just never mind. I need some air.”

 “When you come back, make sure you leave your attitude behind, Griffin!” Emerson called after me down the corridor. I resisted the urge to flip him off.

 I lit up a cigarette when I reached the hospital grounds, leaning my back against the wall. My head was spinning.

 Still no text from Lexa.

 I sent her yet another message, in the vain hopes that she would read it. I even debated sending her a picture of my tits, just to see if that would make her respond quicker.

 

_[19:46] To: Lexa_

_Call me, please._

_It’s urgent._

 

 Just as I was about to lock my phone, I received an email from an unidentified address. My stomach sank. With a trembling thumb, I opened the notification, already knowing what the message would contain.

 There were several links to research articles produced by my mother and Mountweather Corp. I could hardly even register what the other links were all about because the little prick had attached a number of images with Lexa in them. Most of them weren’t even relevant to what Cage had discussed with me. They were just pictures of Lexa with a variety of women. Despite the fact she had that deadpan stare in her eyes in every one of the pictures, it made me feel sick to see.

 I wasn’t an easily jealous person. But, it got to me. Why wouldn’t it?

 It wasn’t even that she was doing anything considered outrageous or openly flirtatious. But, I couldn’t help but let my imagination run riot. The first night I’d met her, she’d probably stood with me the same way she stood with these females. She wouldn’t run the risk of disgracing herself in view of the public eye.

 And that wasn’t even the main issue with this whole fucking situation. My mother’s career could have been at risk. I needed to speak to her, but I knew she would be in surgery until at least 9pm.

 Cage was fucking with me to manipulate me. Of course he was.

 But, that didn’t mean it wasn’t working.

 I inhaled the nicotine deeply, my foot tapping anxiously against the gravel.

 Why wasn’t Lexa calling?

 I tossed my cigarette butt to the ground and swivelled on my feet to turn back inside. I quickly messaged my mother, telling her to call me when she could. But, I didn’t hear from her, either.

 I barely slept that night.

 When I turned up for work the next morning, I was bleary eyed and on edge.

 In desperation for caffeine, I made my way to the beverage bay, only to be informed by one of the nurses that the hot water geyser wasn’t working.

 “What?” I raised my eyebrows, “Is there another I can use?”

 The nurse shrugged, “Sorry, the hot water system isn’t working. It’ll probably not be fixed for another couple of hours.”

 My day had just declined by a solid 80%.

 I stalked back to my office, thanking God Emerson was not on shift with me that morning. I might’ve thrown a needle at his head. And I had a good throw on me. I needed a day off from being tasked with things that nurses and healthcare assistants were more than capable of doing. I swore he took delight in demeaning my abilities. He was a sadist – and not the fun kind.

 “Everything okay?”

 I turned to see Dr Hunter, the preferred senior doctor of the ward, standing in my doorway with an expression of concern on her features. She was older and more experienced than all of the doctors in our department, but unlike some, she was approachable.

 “I need caffeine. I’ll snort coffee beans if I have to.” I laughed, logging onto the computer, “Do you have anything you need me to do this morning?”

 “No, you get yourself sorted. I’m okay. Do you want a caffeine pill?” She asked, reaching into her bag, “I pre-emptively bought them this morning – must be psychic.”

  My body screamed yes.

 “Oh, only if you have one spare.” I spun around in my chair to face her, standing to my feet as she dropped the pill in my hand, “Thank you.”

 For somebody with addictive tendencies, I knew this could be the start of a terrible habit. But, I needed it.

 I swallowed it down with a drop of water and lowered myself back into my seat, as Dr Hunter excused herself from my office. I checked on the system to see if my mother was online, and fortunately, she was. I phoned through to her office, waiting for her to pick up.

 “ _Clarke?_ ”

 “Hi, mom, I need to ask you something.”

 “ _Sure_.”

 I hesitated, trying to figure out how to phrase it.

 “ _Is everything okay, baby?_ ” She prompted.

 “Listen… Mountweather Corporation, the pharmaceutical company… Do you know much about their research methodology?” I began.

 “ _I know a little. I’ve done research with them in the past. Why?_ ” She asked.

 I explained in the briefest possible detail about the things Lexa had told me, “… And I had a visitor yesterday. He told me if Lexa was to go public with this information, it could implicate you and ruin your career. Is that true?”

 “ _You’re not in trouble, are you?_ ” She bypassed my question and I feared that my response could change her answer, so I lied.

 “No. It’s fine. I just wanted to check that this wouldn’t ruin your career or anything.” I told her, carefully.

  She seemed unperturbed, “ _It might have a small scale impact. But, I doubt it would have any lasting consequences. I get all my own ethical approval and I have proof that my research has been conducted in accordance with the guidelines. Most of my research has been done to test the effectiveness of their medication, and unfortunately, I’ve found over recent years that it isn’t as beneficial as other companies._ ” She sighed, “ _In fact, I’ve been campaigning to change medication providers for the hospital because of this. The directorate board wants to keep them because they’re cheaper than most others_.”

 That would have been during the time Cage’s father was in control of the company. When Lexa had forced him to practice ethically. It must have made their medication less effective and more expensive to fund research. I didn’t understand, then, why Cage had insisted it would ruin her career and reputation.

 But, then it hit me.

 He’d screwed me over.

 He’d used the images of Lexa to cloud my judgement in the hopes of making me act rashly. To hate her, so I would work with him, rather than against him.

 Or, at the very least, if I despised Lexa then I would be unlikely to put up a fight against her ruin.

 “ _Clarke, are you still there?_ ” My mother’s voice brought me back to the conversation and I cleared my throat.

 “Yeah, I’m just… thinking. Are you able to change the directors’ minds? Because if this information gets out and we’re still distributing medicine provided by Mountweather Corp. then that could be bad for the hospital, right?”

 “ _I’d need proof. As it happens, I have a meeting with the acting CEO this afternoon. I might ask for proof of ethical practice there._ ”

 Cage’s words tumbled into my mind, and then I realised why he’d come to me first. He’d banked on me panicking and informing my mother about their unethical practice. He wanted me to know she would be seeing him that afternoon. The snide little git.

 _‘I don’t like blackmailing people. It makes me uncomfortable. So, I’ve resorted to this because I feel I have no other choice – well, except violence. But, I like that even less. However, it should be noted that I will do both if I have to. And it’s dealer’s choice who gets hurt’_.

 It was a threat. Directed at my mother.

 “Mom, promise me you won’t go. Please.” I begged, quietly.

 “ _What? Why?_ ”

 “Just, please, trust me. I’m asking you to trust me. Just say you’ve had to deal with an emergency, or something. Please.” 

 She paused, “ _Can you give me a reason?_ ”

 “Not right now. I will explain everything later. Will you promise me?” I gripped the phone tightly, knowing that Cage would deliver on his threat. His men were prepared to kill me and Lexa all those weeks ago. I had no reason to believe he wouldn’t stretch to the lengths of hurting my mom if it meant saving his company.

 “ _Okay, baby._ ” She said, finally, “ _I trust you. I won’t go. I’ll speak to the directors._ ”

 I felt my heart thud hard against my ribcage in relief.

 “Thank you. Just, please take care.”

 “ _I will. You too._ ”

 She hung up and I leaned back in my chair, running a hand through my hair.

 Hopefully that was a disaster averted.

 But, I still couldn’t be sure. And I knew Cage was serious with his intent, regardless of the fact that he treated everything with such an amiable approach. Even when threatening the lives of those I loved, he wore a smile.

 The caffeine pill eventually kicked in, and I used the little energy I had to focus on the mountain of paperwork I had left to do. It was hard to concentrate, especially between assessments and meetings, but I somehow managed.

 As I prepared myself to leave at the end of my shift, I heard my phone ping with an email notification.

 With a sickening feeling in my stomach, I opened up the message. Again, it was from the unidentified address.

 

  _I see you’ve declined our offer._

 

 Attached was another picture of Lexa, presumably taken from a traffic cam. Today’s date was printed at the top left-hand corner of the image. She was caught mid-walking down the streets of Boston beside that same woman. I felt anger bubble up inside me. Primarily because I knew he was threatening Lexa, but also because she had her phone in her hand.

 Furiously, I hit out at the wall of my office, grazing my knuckles. I barely even noticed the sting.

 I shoved my hands in my pockets, biting down on my tongue to prevent a string of swear words leaving my mouth.

 That’s when I felt it.

 The photograph.

 Slowly, I retrieved it from my pocket, seeing Indra’s number scrawled on the back.

 I flipped it over once more, studying the image this time with real intent.

 The realisation struck me hard in the chest.

 I was a goddamn idiot.

 Without wasting any further time, I typed Indra’s number into my phone, praying she would pick up.

 “ _Indra speaking._ ”

 “Indra, it’s Clarke Griffin.” I began, already sensing her resentment pouring through the phone, “I need to meet with you. It’s urgent.”

 “ _Why?_ ”

 “Look, can you meet me, or not?”

 She huffed quietly before yielding, “ _Meet me at Polis in an hour_.”

 

.::. _L_.::.

 

 “You’re glued to that thing.”

 I glanced up from my phone, locking it and sliding it back into my pocket, “I don’t mean to be rude.”

 Luna looked at me, tossing the dark waves of her hair over her shoulder, “I know. It just comes naturally to you.”

 I suppressed a sigh.

 “Something on your mind?”

 Nothing – no one – I could talk about with Luna.

 I shook my head, “I was hoping we could get to business.”

 Luna pouted, “I know, but it’s been so long since you’ve been to see me. I thought you’d at least want to appreciate the nostalgia first.”

 I had been ‘appreciating’ the nostalgia all week. Luna had insisted that we have time to explore the venues we’d frequented in the past, despite her busy schedule. And despite mine. We were currently sitting in a private room of her favourite club; somewhere we wouldn’t be overheard or disturbed. Two qualities we had taken advantage of in the past, particularly because Luna hadn’t wanted to run the risk of ruining her marriage with her husband. But, now, I needed those qualities for business purposes.

 I had first met Luna through my line of work. I’d made it my business to have connections with virtually anybody with any sort of influence – and many of those people had made it their business to have connections with me. Many of them enjoyed using my clubs, and that helped business grow. Others liked my security details. Luna was in no weak position. She was in charge of the Federal Board of Healthcare Regulators. She had kept in touch with me because she liked me, not because she needed security.

 “I’m not here for that, Luna.”

 She exhaled, her eyes running over me gently, “Fine. Let’s get to business, then.”

 I inclined my head, opening up my laptop and inserting the memory drive into the USB port, “I already sent this information across to you, but I thought it might help to run through it.”

 “So, what I already know is that Mountweather Pharmaceuticals is a corporation that supplies a number of hospitals throughout different states. They’re approved by us.” Luna began, leaning closer to the laptop, “And here, there’s proof that they’ve been practicing unethically, right?”

 I inclined my head, “Using medical professionals to abuse patient confidentiality to gather information for research. I also have CCTV footage of professionals conducting unsafe experiments on patients without their consent.” I pointed to a list of statistics, “These are the number of deaths that have been caused due to those same experiments. Cases that have been covered up by a third party governing board.”

 Luna scanned through the information, considering it carefully, “This is bad. You know I’d have to conduct a thorough investigation and that could take months.”

 I nodded, “I’m aware.”

 An expression of suspicion crossed her features, “And you want an immediate effect. You want this to go public, don’t you? You really want to destroy the company altogether…”

 “Yes.”

 “Why? What’s in it for me?” She quirked an eyebrow and the suggestion beneath her words didn’t go unnoticed.

 “Be frank with me.” I wasn’t in the mood for foreplay.

 “Alright, I know you, Lexa. I know you like getting right to the point, so I’ll be frank. I could conduct an investigation into their company, which is standard protocol and costs much less. With enough _persuasion_ , I could make an executive decision to bar them completely and run the risk of getting sued.”

 I waited for her to expand on how much persuasion she needed.

 “I’ve always had a soft spot for you. You know that.”

 I did know that.

 “There’s enough information there for you to bar them without consequences. I have compiled full and detailed evidence with some guidance of a lawyer friend of mine.” I paused, choosing my words carefully, “That being said, I know you are under no obligation to bar them immediately. So, I am more than happy to offer you something in return.”

 She reached for my thigh, a hungry expression crossing her features. Her fingers slid upwards, but I caught her wrist.

 “Except that.”

 She stared at me, as though I might be joking.

 I wasn’t.

 “What? You’ve never said no to me in the past.” She frowned, “I thought maybe… I thought that’s why you’d come to _me_ about it. You could’ve gone public with this already. Why did you need _my_ help?”

 I considered her carefully, the lust still present in her eyes. But, accompanied with something else. Hurt, perhaps. Irritation.

 “Because you can bar them immediately. If I go public, that could cause a problem for you. It may imply you were unable to regulate companies under your approval.”

 “So, this was a courtesy visit.” She slowly retracted her hand from my thigh, slumping back into the couch, “What’s changed?” She asked, eventually realising I wasn’t going to say anything further.

 My mind was plagued with azure. My thoughts had never strayed far from Clarke. I had never felt distance before than I had right then in that moment. I was miles away from her and even though it had only been a week, I felt it had been longer.

 And the thought of being intimate with another person was an impossible concept.

 “Are you on your period or something?” Luna asked hopefully, tilting her head back, “Because I can wait a couple of days…”

 “No.”

 She angled her attention back to me, “Is there… somebody else?”

 I kept quiet.

 “Because, I mean, I’m married. You know, nothing is more binding than that.”

 I thought of this and how trivial it seemed to me now. Marriage? What did that have to do with anything? Luna wasn’t committed to her husband. She never had been. Marriage was nothing more than a legal contract. If she chose to break it, that was up to her. I wanted Clarke. I craved her. And nobody else.

 What I had with her was something far more powerful than a legal contract.

 “Luna, I can offer you anything else. Just not that.”

 She shrugged, sitting up, “There isn’t anything else I want from you.”

 I had come here because I respected Luna. I didn’t want to do anything that might create difficulties for her. But, people were selfish. Myself included.

 That being said, I had never used sex to get what I wanted. The two were completely separate aspects of my life. I had always been able to get what I wanted without having to submit myself to another. I wasn’t about to change my habits now.

 “I’ll be in town for a few more days. Let me know if you change your mind.” I stood to my feet, closing my laptop and sliding it back into my carrier. As I headed towards the door, Luna followed, catching my hand in hers.

 “Lexa, wait.”

 I waited.

 “Look, there’s always been something good between us. I’m not asking you to do anything you don’t want to do. It’s just that you’re the only woman I’ve actually been with and I don’t know… it feels right, somehow.”

 Was Luna trying to come out to me? I suppressed my amusement, looking down at her as she struggled with her words.

 “Luna, I’m not the only woman out there.” I told her, carefully retracting my hand from hers, “I could introduce you to many of them. All of whom would be more than happy to help you explore yourself.”

 She raised an eyebrow, “Why, Lexa, are you saying what I think you are?”

 That wholly depended on what she thought I was saying.

 “Are you… are you a pimp among all your other duties?” She seemed to find the thought funny.

 “A pimp? No.”

 I would never live it down with Clarke if I was one.

 I thought of all the teasing names she’d call me if she’d heard such a suggestion.

 “But, I am influential as I’m sure you’re aware.”

 “Oh, I am.” She creased her eyebrows, “Say I did take you up on that offer, how can I be sure they will deliver as well as you can?”

 Nobody delivered like I did. But, I didn’t tell her that.

 “I’m sure you’ll figure it out.”

 She paused, before taking a step back, “I’ll be in touch.”

 I was certain of it.

 I couldn’t leave fast enough.

 Once I arrived back to my hotel, I typed Clarke’s number into my business phone, not ashamed over the fact that I knew it by heart.

 I waited for her to pick up.

 But, she didn’t.

 My forehead creased and I placed my phone on the bedside table, leaning back into the pillows tiredly.

 I was more than ready for this trip to be over.

 

.::. _C_ .::.

 

 Indra was waiting for me outside the club entrance. I’d arrived straight from work, and I knew I looked a state. But, I wasn’t here to party and Lexa wasn’t here to see me looking so harassed, so it didn’t really matter in hindsight. Silently, she inclined her head to the other members of security around her and they stepped to the side, allowing me to pass through.

 Indra led me to the staff area and closed the door behind her, “Talk.” She instructed.

 I showed her the photograph, “I know it’s a little late, but I know who this man is. He’s a senior on my ward, Dr Emerson. He must’ve been the one to help the attacker escape.”

 I briefly explained about my encounter with Cage, Indra listening to me intently. Albeit with a sour expression on her face.

 When I finished, she straightened up, looking suddenly terrifying. No wonder Lexa liked her.

 “Have you… heard from Lexa? I’m worried, that’s all. She hasn’t responded to my messages and I’m worried that she’s, you know, in danger.”

 Indra seemed unconcerned, “She doesn’t take her personal phone with her on business trips. Only a company phone. One that can’t be traced, should anybody try to track her.”

 I felt a quiet sense of relief. At least she hadn’t just been ignoring me. But that wasn’t the main issue at hand.

 “And what of Cage? He’s been sending me images of her whereabouts in Boston. He knows where she is. Doesn’t that put her in danger?”

 Indra stilled, “Cage knows where she is?”

 Hadn’t I mentioned that? I _thought_ I’d mentioned it. Or perhaps I was too busy trying to ignore the image of Lexa sleeping with a variety of women that it evaded my notice.

 I could feel my phone buzzing in my pocket. I had to leave it though, because Indra was looking at me with a particularly murderous glare. Like it was my fault all of this had happened.

 “I need to call her.” Indra shut herself away in the back office, leaving me standing there with proverbial blue balls.

 What was I supposed to do? I checked my phone once more, seeing that the missed call was from an unknown number. It was probably Cage phoning with more threats, and that was something I didn’t want to have to deal with. Ever.

 Instead, I called my mother, pacing up and down the span of the floor.

 No answer.

 I knew she wasn’t at work today. There were plenty of other reasons why she might not have been picking up. There had to be.

 Right?

 I phoned again. Still no answer.

 Third time. No answer.

 I could hear Indra’s voice drifting through the door, but I didn’t have time to wait for her. I had this regrettable sinking sensation in my stomach; one that couldn’t be explained. One that wouldn’t settle until I had confirmed my mother was safe. Until I had confirmed Lexa would be safe. I was sure Indra was better equipped at dealing with the latter. But, I had to be the one to deal with the former.

 I turned and darted out of the door, squeezing my way between the bouncers, and not stopping until I’d reached my car.

 It took me about twenty minutes to weave in and out of the nightlife traffic building up in the town centre. The whole time, I had been trying to contact mom. And eventually, it had just reverted straight to voicemail. Either, her phone battery had died, or somebody had turned it off.

 I pushed down harder on the accelerator, finally arriving at her house. The lights were on inside, so somebody was home. I just didn’t know who.

 Pushing open the door, knowing it would already be unlocked because of my mother’s bad habits, I stepped inside, feeling sick, “Mom?” I called out.

 “Clarke, is that you?” She called from the dining room.

 I hurried towards her, heart pounding, “Are you okay?”

 As I entered the room, I saw she was seated at the dinner table. But, she wasn’t alone.

 I cut myself short, breathless.

 Marcus Kane sat opposite my mother, the two of them appearing as naughty school children. It seemed none of us really knew what to say.

 Marcus was the first to break the silence. He stood up and extended his hand politely, offering me a warm smile, “Good to see you, Clarke.”

 Circumstances aside, this man was having dinner with my mother and I didn’t know how I felt about it. All I could think was that I’d never been so happy to see Kane in all my life.

 I grasped his hand firmly, overpowering the weakness in my limbs, and sized him up. He returned my once-over with nothing but a respectful nod.

 Hmph.

 I released his hand and glanced over at my mother, “I’m sorry to pull you away from your dinner. Can I just borrow you for a second?”

 Confusion lined her features, but I could see in the depths of her dark eyes that she knew something wasn’t right. I never turned up unannounced.

 She followed me into the kitchen and I shut the door behind us, wondering where to begin.

 It seemed I wasn’t the only one.

 “Clarke–”

 “Mom–”

 We both stopped, short.

 “You first.” She laughed, gently.

 “Well, you didn’t answer your phone.”

 She rolled her eyes, clicking her tongue, “That’s right. I left it in my bag. I didn’t even think.”

 “No, it’s okay. I’m just glad you’re safe. I was worried that something had happened to you.”

 “What are you talking about?”

 I explained as simply as I could, but I wasn’t sure whether she’d be able to make heads or tails of it any more than I could.

 Steadily, she rested a hand on the kitchen side, “Okay, let me just get this straight. So, this Lexa you’re seeing runs a huge business. Questionable morals aside, she wants to expose Mountweather Corp. publicly because they broke a contract with her, whatever that contract was, by leading unethical and dangerous experimental research.”

 So far, so good.

 “Cage Wallace has taken over from his father and wants to further their illegal research because it makes him big money… and he’s personally threatened you with violence if you don’t stop Lexa from bringing his company to ruin.”

 “He implied that anybody I’m close to could get hurt. I don’t see what he would achieve by going after you, except leverage over me. I think his main target is Lexa…” I took a slow breath, trying not to think too deeply into the danger she was in, “She can take care of herself. She’s strong. But, she’s out there in Boston alone–”

 My words jammed somewhere in the opening of my throat.

 She wasn’t alone.

 She was with that woman.

 It didn’t mean she was necessarily sleeping with her, just because she was spending most of her time there with her. The thought made me queasy.

 No.

 Not even queasy.

 It was like I’d tossed a bunch of marbles into my mouth and swallowed them down with bleach. Maybe that sounded dramatic. Maybe it was. But, it wasn’t a lie. It was the stomach wrenching truth.

 And it wasn’t even the main problem at hand.

 I shoved the thoughts away, finding myself just begging for her to be kept safe.

 My mother watched me. She had always been resilient. Something I used to resent her for, considering it to be a lack of caring, until I realised I was the same. We felt things deeply, but we used that to fuel our determination and our drive for success. She was just a little more experienced than I was.

 “I just need her to be okay. I need everybody to be okay.” I stated, taking a slow breath inwards.

 “Do you truly believe it might come to that? To violence?”

 I closed my eyes, trying to ground myself with reason, “Maybe. It’s not his first choice, apparently. There are other complications that brute force will cause, and I think he wants to avoid that. But, I also get the feeling that he would use violence if necessary… and I think he probably has the means to cover it up, too.”

 All of this for money.

 I hated it.

 I _hated_ it.

 “I think Emerson has something to do with it, too.”

 She raised her eyebrows, studying me carefully with that look that all mothers seemed to develop the second they popped out a kid – as though they knew absolutely everything. As though nothing you said would get by them.

 “It’s not just because I think he’s a smug little bitch, either.”

 Her eyebrows climbed higher, “Language, Clarke.”

 Given the situation, I didn’t think she really meant her chastisement. It was probably just more out of habit than anything.

 “I don’t have any solid proof yet, but he was the one who told me I had to go see a patient, who then turned out to be Cage.”

 I kept the photograph to myself.

 I couldn’t explain that without explaining how the patient Emerson had smuggled out of the hospital got hurt in the first place.

 “I just think maybe they’re paying him off to carry out the odd job, or whatever.”

 “Have you considered contacting the police?”

 I shook my head, “I don’t have enough proof. There’s not much they can do, either. They’re useless 98% of the time.”

 “They were pretty efficient for you when you were a teen.”

 I grimaced, “Don’t remind me of my delinquent youth. Plus, it’ll probably just make things worse contacting them.”

 “You must care about Lexa a great deal.” My mother commented, all-knowing as per.

 I shrugged, trying not to catch her eye, “What makes you say that?”

 “The fact that you’re in danger just by associating with her. That, even after being threatened, you’re not willing to sell her out. That you’re still considering her safety above your own.”

 “It’s also the right thing to do. Who knows who’s getting hurt in these illegal experiments?”

 Truthfully, I just wanted to gather everybody I cared about under my arm and throw them all into a nice safe little room so nobody could touch them.

 There were definitely rules about that sort of thing, but still. It would’ve made my life simpler.

 “I wish there was something I could do.” She said, at last.

 “All you need to do is keep your damn doors locked.” I muttered, taking a slow breath inwards, “Listen, I’m sorry for interrupting your date, which you’re still not off the hook for by the way. I just had to know you were okay.”

 An expression of compassion crossed her face and she suddenly reached forwards, enveloping me into a hug with her arms.

 Slowly, I sank into her.

 “Well, I’m okay.” She pressed a kiss to my head, “Besides, I’ve got Marcus here with me. He’ll look out for me, I’m sure.”

 “Yeah, and what about when he leaves? They could break in tonight or something, and then what?” I mumbled, the meaning behind her silence suddenly absorbing.

 Ah.

 “He’s… not going tonight, is he?” I shuddered, indiscreetly.

 “Well… I have had half a bottle of wine…”

 “Mother.” I reproved, albeit a little half-heartedly.

 She pulled her hand through my hair, soothingly, “You can tell me off later, honey.”

 “And just because he’s a man, it doesn’t mean he’ll be able to protect you, you know.” I added.

 She nodded, sighing softly, “I know. And I’m not totally defenceless, either. Where else do you think you inherited your feistiness from? Besides, Lexa hasn’t gone public _yet_ so I’m sure we still have a little time before Cage tries to make good on his threat. They’re a pharmaceutical company, for Christ’s sake. Not some huge mafia. They have a lot to lose.”

 It didn’t make me feel much better.

 But, she was probably right. Even though it didn’t separate me from my dread.

 “You can stay here tonight if you want.”

 “What, and listen to you and Kane going at it all night?” I muttered, eventually retracting myself from her embrace, and receiving a clip on the back of my head as I did so.

 “Don’t be vulgar, Clarke.”

 I scoffed, “Oh, come on. _I’m_ the vulgar one. Really?”

 Before she could respond, I turned away from her, hearing my phone vibrate.

 “Do you have a call?” She asked.

 I glanced at the screen, the ID listed as unknown. I didn’t want to answer it.

 “Who is it?”

 “I don’t know.”

 “Give it to me. I’ll answer it.”

 I didn’t.

 “If it’s them, don’t you think you should see what they have to say? Is there any way you can record the call?”

 I shook my head, pushing the phone out of my sight, “I’ll deal with it later.” I lied.

 She pursed her lips, but dropped the subject, “Look, please, if anything happens tonight, I want you to phone the police.”

 “It’s you I’m worried about. If you hear so much as a twig snap, _you_ phone the police, okay? And then phone me.”

 She exhaled, “Yes. I will. And the same goes for you.”

 When I left, I made sure my mother had locked the door up before I slid into the car, driving back through the twilight towards home. The fading light bled into red. It was an abstractly serene night, the glittering skylights against the setting sun illuminating the approaching night with picturesque warmth. Illusions were a funny thing, though. Because it was a really fucking chilly evening.

 When I stepped into my vacant apartment, I felt my phone vibrate harshly against my thigh. This was getting particularly tiresome. I wasn’t in the mood for this bullshit.

 I’d made a stop on the way home for some caffeine pills, and I popped one into my mouth, sensing I was to be in for a long night. With my growing fury, I relented and finally accepted the call, getting ready to battle the sickness in my stomach with fire. I pressed it to my ear, saying nothing. I wanted them to speak first.

 And then they did.

 “ _Clarke, are you there?_ ”

 My heart may as well have just clawed its way out of my chest right there and then.

 Fuck.

 “Lexa…”

  

 

 

 

 


	19. Chapter 19

.::. _L_.::.

 

 “ _Lexa…_ ”

 Everything stopped. The second I heard her voice. I couldn’t even try to hide my relief. For a fleeting moment, neither could she.

 “ _You’re safe…_ ” She breathed.

 I felt my hand tighten around the phone, holding it a little closer to my ear as though it would bring me closer to Clarke, “Of course I’m safe. And you? You’re okay?”

 Then, she changed.

 I could hear her deliberate quietly down the phone and my jaw tensed at the silence.

 “Clarke?”

 “ _I’m okay_.” She said at last. I knew it was a lie. But, at least she was still talking. Still breathing.

 “Indra contacted me. She told me what happened. And then she said you’d disappeared. I was worried about you.”

 “ _Were you?_ ”

 There was something off about the way she posed the question; the tone of her voice.

 “Should I not have been?” I allowed my face to crease slightly in mild confusion.

 “ _No, it’s okay. I just had to leave suddenly. My mom wasn’t answering her phone and I thought something had happened to her._ ”

 Not only had I put Clarke in danger again, but her mother too. I felt regret consume me; swallowing me whole, “Clarke, I’m ending this. I made a mistake in coming here. I should never have…”

 I never admitted a mistake. To anybody. And yet, here I was.

 “ _No, you didn’t. You need to see it through, Lexa. This is so much bigger than just me and my mother. People are getting hurt, aren’t they? If Cage wins, then he will know he’s unstoppable. And he won’t stop. Not until he’s been put away for good. Not until he’s six feet under._ ”

 I heard the vehemence in her tone, the hatred she possessed, and I despised myself for letting it all get this far. But, then… I knew Clarke. Bound by the honour to do what was ‘right’. She believed in the greater good. She always had. This, me doing _this_ , to her was the right thing to do. Once her mind was made up, there would be nothing I could do to change it.

 “I can’t put you in danger, Clarke.” I murmured, “I’ll tell Luna that I’m done. It’s over.”

 If she chose to conduct an investigation with the information I gave her, then that was her choice. But, I couldn’t face going public. Not if it meant watching Clarke get hurt. I knew she could handle the pain, but I wasn’t sure I could handle seeing her in pain. I was certain she’d scoff at me if she knew.

 I was so ensnared with my thoughts, that I’d barely noticed the strange rhythm of Clarke’s measured breaths until I realised she’d said nothing for a minute or two. Words were never usually in short supply for her. I knew she was battling with something, but I just didn’t know what.

 “Clarke?”

 “ _Do what you need to do._ ” I could hear the simmering venom, even underneath the restraint of her calm tone. Why?

 “You’re… angry with me.” I commented, finally. I should’ve expected it. I’d asked more of her than I had of anybody else.

 She said nothing. Whatever internal battle she was facing, I wanted her to tell me. There was a tick of charged energy. Not the sort I was used to experiencing with her. I wanted her to say something; for the first time, I wanted the silence to shatter. So, I tapped the glass, hoping it to break.

 “Clarke, I never meant for any of this to happen.”

 “ _For any of_ what _to happen?_ ”

 There were a million undertones to her words, and I couldn’t begin to decipher any of them.

 Surely it was obvious what I meant.

 “All of this. Putting you in danger. And your mother. Expecting too much of you.”

 “ _My safety is not your responsibility, remember?_ ”

 I hesitated; this was the wedge that drove us apart before. I tried to say something, but the sound of Clarke’s pensive sigh threw me off kilter.

 “ _Lexa, listen to me. You know I’m with you. You_ know _I am. But, I don’t want to be taken for a fool_.”

 A fool? The lines in my forehead deepened.

 “ _You know, it shouldn’t even fucking matter to me in light of everything that’s going on, but I can’t stop thinking about it. About you. With her._ ”

 “With who? Luna?” I kept my voice as level as I could to conceal my shock.

 Tick. Tick.

  “ _Yes. With Luna._ ” She spoke the name as though it left a nasty taste on her tongue, “ _Look, you’re free to do what you want. I get that you’re out there, risking your life for a good cause and everything. But, I’m here, facing all of this… this_ bullshit _. And sure, I’m not just doing it for you. I’m doing it because I give a shit about my patients and about the public. What are you doing it for? Revenge? Making a statement that you’re still in charge? Cage threatened my mom for this. He threatened you. I can take care of her until all of this blows over, but you? You’re miles away! I’ve heard nothing from you, Lexa. Nothing. I didn’t even know if you were safe!_ ” She took a breath while I held mine, “ _And all I see is pictures of you with this filthy rich and powerful woman living it up in Boston as though all of this is just another simple business transaction. If it even is just business. I know I’ve never asked for your full commitment, or anything. I would never force you into something you didn’t want. But, I’m keeping it together for the sake of making sure this is all done properly because it’s the right thing to do, but so help me god if I’m going through this while you’re…_ ” She trailed away, her voice hitching heavily.

 Her words slaughtered my circulation. I was light headed. A sensation I wasn’t accustomed to. In all my time in this role, I had never been blasted apart with such raw and open honesty. I forced myself to talk. She clearly hadn’t said everything she would’ve liked. And I wanted to hear every word, even though each one was a blade on my skin.

 “While I’m what?” I asked, quietly.

 “ _Are you sleeping with her?_ ”

 I blinked, twice.

 I couldn’t speak. I was rendered speechless.

 “ _Perfect._ ”

My mouth opened and I tried – and failed – whilst Clarke gave herself a moment to reel in her thoughts.

 “ _Look, I’m not trying to accuse you of anything. I just want you to tell me so I know where I stand with you. Please._ ”

 I urged myself to find my voice. And I did. But, it didn’t sound like mine.

 “No, Clarke. I’m not. That’s not why I’m here.”

 Clarke processed this. Probably deciding whether she should believe me or not.

 “ _No? Why are you there then? Did it_ have _to be her to deal with all this shit? Cage showed me pictures of the two of you cosying up together. I don’t want to come off as jealous or possessive. That’s not my style. I just don’t want to be fucked over. If I’m wrong, then tell me. But, I’m not stupid, Lexa. You’re there drinking the evenings away in some upmarket club with her and you want me to blindly accept that it’s all business? Two weeks is a long business trip and you’re making it really fucking hard for me to trust you_.”

 I closed my eyes, tentatively pressing two fingers to my temple, “I’m here for business. Often, that involves drinking in upmarket clubs. I’ve known Luna a long time, and I don’t want to create unnecessary difficulties with her by just turning up, making demands, and leaving. Usually, I would. But, I know I’m more likely to get what I need if I treat her with respect. I never thought that you would be facing threats while I was away. I should have realised. The fact I didn’t torments me.”

Clarke still seemed to have her reservations, “ _Have you ever had sex with her?_ ”

 I exhaled, quietly, “Yes. In the past.”

 She waited a moment before speaking once more, “ _Okay._ ”

 I didn’t know whether that meant ‘okay’, or not. She still didn’t sound okay. A little calmer, maybe, but I knew she wasn’t _okay_.

 “ _When was the last time?_ ”

 “Before I met you.”

 “ _And there’s been nothing with her since then?_ ”

 “She wanted me to while I was here. I said no. There has been nothing of that nature.”

 I wanted to be honest with her. Clarke needed honesty, and I operated better when being direct.

 “Clarke, since the first night I met you, it’s only been you.” I told her, softly, “I haven’t touched anybody in that way _since_ you. You’ve never asked for my commitment, I know that. But, you have it. You’ve always had it.”

 And I felt, deep in my core, that she always would.

 Clarke prolonged the suspending silence.

 “ _You mean that._ ”

 “Yes.” I whispered, running a hand through my hair. If I could, I’d have her by my side in an instant.

“ _God, that’s a bit clingy._ ” I could hear her release a shaky laugh before it faded into a sigh, “ _Look, I… I can deal with Cage. I can deal with all of it. But, the thought of somebody else having you in the same way I do? Just being that way with you? It makes everything else unbearable._ ”

 I ached. All of my muscles, my bones and organs, ached. I needed her close. My body wouldn’t settle until I had her in my arms again.

 “I’m yours, Clarke.” I told her, my throat cracking, “You have me. Every part of me.”

 “ _I need you to stay safe, Lexa._ ” Her voice was tenderly soft; vulnerable, “ _Fuck, I miss you_.”

 “I…” I tried to inhale as much oxygen as I could, but I was still left feeling short on air, “I miss you, too.”

 “ _Really?_ ” She sounded dubious, but I knew she believed me, despite her act.

 “Yes, Clarke. I’ve hardly been able to think of anything else.”

 I could hear her breathing stumble, ever so quietly, “ _Then get back in one piece, okay?_ ”

 “Okay.”

 

.::. _C_.::.

 

  I slept a little easier that night. Once the caffeine pill had dissipated, I was exhausted. My body was a dead weight against the mattress.

 I still felt that Lexa and I had neglected saying all we wanted – or at least, I probably had. Talking had never been Lexa’s favourite pastime. For example, I still felt uncomfortable knowing she was spending time with a woman she’d slept with, probably multiple times before. Lexa was a sexual being. Beneath her many layers of self-control lay an untamed beast. One that I longed to play with.

 Of course, I felt that trusting her was the right thing to do. She betrayed nothing to anybody. Except me. She’d betrayed herself to me.

 And she had never once told me a lie.

 There was also the question of a couple of things I’d said to her… such as accusing her of getting revenge on Cage rather than fulfilling the need to do something right by the public. But, could I blame her for that? She had different priorities to me. I was a doctor. She was in charge of running a business. It was natural for us to have varying agendas. That didn’t change the fact that I was out of line. I’d said it in a spurt of rage. Even if there was truth behind what I’d said, and I was sure there was some, Lexa was doing what was right by her business. Something she had spent years creating. Why shouldn’t she? The city was her playground, and she did things others wouldn’t dare, but that didn’t mean she was stone-hearted. Not to me.

 She was willing to sacrifice it all to keep me safe.

 I didn’t want her to. I wanted her to continue her plans to destroy Mountweather Corp. Even if it meant taking a risk.

 Either way, despite my fury, I was just grateful to hear her voice.

 For now, that was enough. I could rest easy. 

 When the sound of my alarm tipped me unpleasantly into reality, I dragged myself out of bed to get myself ready, already taking a caffeine pill before I’d even left my bedroom.

 Fortunately, the hospital wasn’t as busy as I’d expected it to be. Part of me would’ve liked the distraction, but I took advantage of the lull.  

 Or at least, the first 35 minutes had been relaxed. Then, the resus alarms blared through the corridor into my office, setting the tone nicely for the rest of the day. I abandoned the computer and picked up my pace, dodging my way between bustling nurses and bemused patients. My arm collided harshly with a gentleman trying to slide by me, and I prepared to throw a quick apology over my shoulder until I noticed that the gentleman in question was Dr Emerson.

 Even though he wasn’t on shift today.

 I had never seen a man tear his eyes away from mine so fast. He ducked out of sight, turning the corner.

 The resus alarm faded into the background, and I found my feet pulling me towards him.

 For a moment, I was swallowed whole by my curiosity; by the impulsive need to catch him in the act of… of _something_.

 “Dr Griffin?”

  _Dammit_.

 I bit down hard on the inside of my lip and reverted my attention to the nurse standing outside of the resus bay.

 “I’m here.”

 Internally, I slapped myself back to focus. This was my _actual_ job. And this was an actual life.

 We worked for an inestimable amount of time and, by some miracle or other, we finally got a pulse. I left the aftercare in the capable hands of the nurses and sidled out of the bay, determined to track down Emerson.

 I looked everywhere.

 Well, everywhere except where he was.

 Because I still hadn’t found him.

 I had a series of assessments back-to-back and by the time I had done, I was pretty sure I’d missed my window of opportunity to confront Emerson.

 It was likely for the best – I wasn’t sure how many seconds I could last before punching him in the mouth.

 Then, as fate would have it, as I made my way to the staff room, he wasn’t there. But, his coat was. And I couldn’t resist dipping my hand in the pockets. I wasn’t sure what I was expecting to find, but I wasn’t really _thinking_. I was just doing. Something I had always excelled at.

 Car keys.

 Handkerchief. (Vile).

 Flash drive.

 My fingers curled around it. It was probably nothing. But, I was a meddler. So, I was going to keep it.

 Since it was nearly the end of my shift, I decided to wait until I got home to examine the contents. It was definitely a mistake. And I would definitely regret it.

 I slipped back out of the staff room, going to finish doing my rounds of the ward which would lead me up until the end of shift.

 Then, because it was just my luck, as I made my way off ward, there he was. Leaving the reception, his hands in his pockets.

 We regarded each other with similar interest. Probably trying to work out which one of us knew what about the other.

 “Griffin.”

 “Emerson.”

 There was a beat of silence, neither of us really knowing what to say to fill it.

 “I admire your work ethic.” I told him.

 He raised an eyebrow.

 “You know, coming in on your day off.” I explained.

 “I was visiting somebody.” He told me, blankly.

 This time, it was my turn to raise my eyebrow, “Do you usually visit people in your uniform?”

 He shrugged, “Depends on my mood.”

 “Does it ever change?” I withheld the mockery from my tones, knowing he would still receive it as an insult, anyway.

 “Sometimes.” His eyes glittered.

 There was another beat of silence.

 “Enjoy your evening, Emerson.” I inclined my head and side-stepped past him.

 He angled his body towards me as I brushed his shoulder with mine, “You too, Griffin.”

 I suppressed a shudder as I stepped outside. A shudder that had very little to do with the chilly evening air.

 

…

 

 “Is there porn on it? I bet there’s porn.”

 I smirked at Octavia as I slid the flash drive into my laptop, leaning back into the comforts of the sofa, “If there is, you’ll be the first to know.”

 I waited for it to load. And waited.

 And waited.

 “It’s not doing anything.” I muttered, frowning slightly. Octavia dropped beside me and leaned over my shoulder to glance at the screen.

 “Click that.” She pointed to a small icon on the desktop, and I did as I was told, “Looks like its encrypted. Guess we’ll never find out what sorts of fetishes he has, after all.”

 “Encrypted?” I frowned, “How do I un-encrypt it?”

 She shrugged, “Option number one: you don’t. Consequence: you are no longer a nosey bitch.”

 “I don’t like that option. What’s option number two?” I asked.

 “Get somebody who understands binary to unlock it.”

 I groaned, “Oh, yeah, with all those hacker friends I have.”

 Octavia was quiet for a moment, before she nudged my arm, “What about Monty? Do you still keep in contact?”

 I hesitated, “I haven’t spoken to Monty in about three years. Wouldn’t it be a bit, I don’t know… rude?”

 “Yes. But you’re a rude person, so I don’t see how that matters.”

 We’d gone through school with Monty Green. He was a nerdy kid from day one – and had about one friend throughout the entirety of his education. Well, until his one friend turned into a massive dick and fell off the radar. We kind of adopted him into our group after that. We had spoken after high school, and even while I was studying at university, but after that we’d lost touch.

 Fuck it.

 I scrolled through my phone, finding his number and hitting the call button.

 “ _Clarke?_ ”

 “Hey, Monty. Bit of random question here… but, how would you feel about decoding an encrypted flash drive in exchange for a meat feast pizza?”

 “ _Yeah, I’m fine, thanks for asking._ ”

 I laughed, quietly, “Sorry, Monty. But, I’ll even throw in some cheese triangles to the deal, too?”

 He hesitated.

 “And marijuana.”

 “ _Okay, deal. When?_ ” He conceded, and I avoided pumping my fist in celebration.

 “How soon can you get here?”

 It turned out Monty could get here pretty fast. I would too, if pizza was involved.

 I set up the laptop for him on the coffee table while Octavia made drinks. He launched himself right in, cracking his knuckles, “Whose is this, by the way?”

 I shrugged, placing the pizza box down next to his hands, “If I tell you, will it help you decode it faster?”

 He glanced over at me, raising his eyebrows, “Okay, no questions. Got it.”

 I picked up a slice of pizza with one hand, and turned to pet the Chancellor with my other.

 “How long will it take?” I asked, once several minutes had passed.

 Monty barely looked away from the screen, his fingers continuing their rapid movements on the keyboard, “If I can’t ask questions, neither can you.”

 He had a point.

 I wasn’t sure how any minutes had ticked away, but it was long enough for me to get cramp in my backside. I pulled myself up, both knees cracking lightly at the movement, “God, I’m getting old.”

 Octavia looked at me over the top of her phone screen, “Good job you’ll make a hot MILF.”

 I winked in her direction, going to make another round of drinks, “Too bad you’re straight.”

 “I’ve done it!” Monty shot up to his feet, clapping his hands together.

 I bounded back into the living room, almost sloshing the contents of the glasses onto the carpet.

 “Griffin, watch it!”

 I didn’t even both apologising to Octavia as I set down the drinks, “Really? What’s on there?”

 Monty creased his eyebrows, “Files… Looks like medical records. And…” He leaned down to scroll through the contents of the flash drive, “Photographs of–”

 “–Mature porn?” Octavia interjected with a snort.

 “No. But, they are of people… hospital patients by the looks of it. You’ll probably be able to make more sense out these than me, Clarke.” Monty told me, his brow furrowed.

 I lowered myself to the sofa, inspecting the first image I laid eyes on, “I… I saw this patient today. I resuscitated him. Why is there a picture of him on here?”

 “It looks like there’s a few.”

 I found the first picture of the patient; a photograph of him looking more or less healthy. But, his state seemed to deteriorate from then on. He looked as though he’d developed jaundice, and had lost a considerable amount of weight. By the final picture, his face was gaunt, eyes hollow and unfocused. How I’d seen him prior to resuscitation.

 Was he a subject of Mountweather Corp.? How had they gotten away with that?

 “Clarke, look.” Monty pointed at the caption of the final photograph.

_Name: Albert Godwin_

_Age: 67yrs_

_Subject ID: 374852_

_Given diagnosis: Delirium induced psychosis_

_Sample: Chlorpromazine_

_Side effects: Severe agitation, jaundice, parkinsonian symptoms, dystonia, weight loss, GI disturbances, corneal damage_

_Outcome: Terminated_

 

 “Terminated?” I breathed, “As in…”

 I couldn’t finish my sentence.

 “Have I just landed myself in the middle of some deep conspiratorial crap?” Monty asked, a small frown pulling at the corner of his lips.

 I ran a hand through my hair, biting down hard on my lip, “This is bad. Monty, you can’t tell anybody about this, okay?”

 He nodded, “Of course.”

 I squeezed his shoulder lightly, “Thank you. Now, fancy a joint?”

 He nodded, “Oh, god, yes.”

 Octavia wrinkled her nose, “You two disgust me.”

 But, I didn’t get the chance to reply.

 A heavy knock on the door interrupted whatever witty remark I was about to fire.

 “Is Lincoln coming over, or something?” I asked.

 Octavia shook her head, “No. Maybe your tall-dark-and-mysterious came back early from her trip.”

 I shrugged. If that was the case, I’d better be the one to answer.

 Pulling open the door, I felt my heart stop.

 It wasn’t Lexa.

 It was Cage. And he wasn’t alone.

 

.::. _L_ .::.

 

 I’d been quick to wrap things up with Luna. First thing that morning. I hadn’t wanted to spend a second longer in Boston than was absolutely necessary. She hadn’t fully agreed to give me what I wanted, presumably because she couldn’t have me. But, she promised to ‘do what she could’ it in exchange for a visit to my club within the next couple of weeks. It seemed she enjoyed the idea of embracing her inner fluidity with women and I was more than happy to shift the attention from me onto as many other females as I could. She had agreed, however, to discuss the fate of Mountweather Corp. with her board of directors. It would apparently take a maximum of a fortnight to come to a conclusion as to whether they should be barred fully from distributing medications to healthcare providers, or whether they should conduct a full investigation.

 I didn’t see why she was so hesitant to get this all over with as soon as possible.

 Unless she was hoping that, by drawing it all out, she would have the chance to persuade me to bed her again. Which was absolutely out of the question.

 The flight back was going relatively smoothly.

 “Champagne, ma’am?”

 I waved my hand in dismissal, not taking my eyes off the newspaper I had resting on the table.

 I wasn’t in the mood for alcohol. To be honest, I wasn’t particularly in the mood for anything.

 I dissected the political section of the newspaper simply to occupy my mind with something other than Clarke.

 I enjoyed thinking of her, naturally. But, it did seem to make the flight drag out longer. Looking forwards to things tended to do that – it halved time’s efficiency.

 Eventually, once I’d had my bags delivered to me, I made my way to the airport lobby. Indra was waiting for me with a few of the others. I inclined my head to each of them in turn, and a couple of the men carried my luggage out to the car for me.

 Once Indra and I were inside the confines of the Jaguar, I turned to her, “Any word?”

 “No further updates since last night. And you?”

 I gave a minimal shake of my head, “The plan is going ahead.”

 Indra nodded, “Good. I know it isn’t my place, but I thought perhaps that doctor-girl would try and talk you out of it.”

 I felt my little finger twitch – just slightly. Not enough for anybody else to notice.

 “On the contrary, Clarke encouraged me to continue with it.”

 “Even with her life at risk?”

 “Yes.”

 After some time, Indra spoke once more, “I presume you’ll be going to see her this evening?”

 “Do you have my personal phone?”

 Indra was already holding it out to me, and I felt my eyebrow raise marginally. It seemed she was one step ahead.

 Dusk approached, but I wasn’t sure if Clarke would still be at work, or not. I switched on my phone, silencing it so I didn’t have to deal with the onslaught of notifications that piled through.

 I scrolled through my contacts, finding her name.

 She wasn’t picking up, so I assumed she would still be at work. I wouldn’t be back in town for another forty-five minutes, so there was time for her to get back to me.

 I caught sight of the texts she’d sent me whilst I was away. They were nothing profound. Just small, quick-witted, and very Clarke. Aside from one she’d sent prior to speaking with Indra. When she had been close to breaking point.

 I composed a message to her in the hopes she would see it sooner rather than later.

 

  _[20:47] To: Clarke_

_It’s cold this evening. If you’re interested in having a professional bed-warmer, let me know._

I slid my phone back into my pocket, certain that whatever response I would receive would likely be one of amusement.

 As we neared my home, Indra reached for my elbow, “Clarke is phoning me.”

 I didn’t betray my surprise, but I was quick to tell her to answer it on loud speaker. Something felt tangibly wrong.

 “Indra speaking.”

 “ _Hi, In…dra? Uh, sorry for the disturbance. You don’t know me. My name is Monty. I’m friends with Clarke and_ –”

 “–What is it, boy?” She barked, cutting off Monty’s awkward introduction.

 “ _Right! Sorry! It’s just… sorry, I’m stressed. Please, get here as soon as you can. There’s somebody called… James, or something. Didn’t catch his name. Octavia told me to call you._ ”

 ‘Monty’ was making very little sense. It was quite infuriating. And why did Octavia say to call? Where was Clarke?

 “James? What are you talking about?”

 “ _Maybe it began with a C. I don’t know. Scary guy in a suit, and a doctor. I’ll explain when you get here. Anyway, the_ _point is_ –”

 “– _Monty, is she coming?_ ” A feminine voice – Octavia.

  _Where was Clarke?_

“Cage.” I felt my chest tighten, “We need to get to Clarke’s now. _Go_.”

 “ _Can you get here?_ ”

 “Yes. Twenty minutes.” Indra ended the call, presumably because Monty was unlikely to give us any more useful information.

 My driver had taken me there enough times to know where she lived, and he spun the car around, stepping on the accelerator with force.

 Outwardly, perhaps I appeared contained. But, I wasn’t. My head screamed. My heart pounded. My blood surged.

 “We’ll get there in time.” Indra assured me, but with little avail. In time for what, exactly?

 Nothing could console me in that moment. I subtly clenched my fists, my knuckles turning white. My body prepared itself for a kill. I wouldn’t rest until I had a body at my feet if I had to. Until Clarke was safe.

 The second we pulled up outside the apartment complex, I was out the door, my body carrying me rapidly up the steps with Indra close behind. I powered to the door and took a moment to steel myself. I would break in if it came to that.

 “It’s Indra. Let us in.” She hammered on the door, standing by my side.

 When nobody answered the door within three seconds, I prepared to kick down the door, raising my foot and pulling it back to gather momentum. Then, the lock fumbled and the door peeled back an inch, a young man’s face appearing through the crack.

 I presumed that to be Monty.

 “Quickly.” He beckoned us inside and shut the door behind us, shaking. He was terrified.

 And with good reason.

 Clarke was kneeling on the floor, pale white, her hands covered in blood.

 Cage lay on the floor in front of her.

 

.::. _C_.::.

 

 “Hi, Clarke.” Cage greeted me amiably, “Can I come in?”

 Emerson stood by his side, his jaw flexing. A sheen of sweat clung to his skin.

 I shook my head, “Sorry, visiting hours are over.” I attempted to close the door firmly, but Cage propped his foot against the frame, preventing me from doing just that.

 “You have something of ours.”

 I did. And he wasn’t having it back.

 I drew the door back and then slammed it hard against his foot, hearing a crunch.

 He yelled and slapped his hand against the wood, “Bitch!”

 One of them must have kicked out at the door, because it flung towards me, knocking me backwards. I clutched my mouth, the taste of blood rolling over my tongue.

 “Monty, take the laptop and hide it.” I hissed quietly, hearing him scramble across the carpet.

 Cage strode in the best he could with Emerson behind him, and he did rather well, considering his foot was probably broken. At least, I sincerely hoped it was.

 He tried to smile, but I could see the pain lacing his lips, tightening the skin around his eyes, “Nobody has to get hurt, Clarke.”

 I couldn’t help but look down at his foot,

 “Don’t they?” I raised an eyebrow, sensing Octavia shift from the other side of the room and coming to stand beside me, “Maybe you could tell that to Albert Godwin. The gentleman I resuscitated today.”

 Cage sent me a blank look, his dark eyes empty, “Who?”

 “You know, your test subject. The one you tried to terminate by inducing a cardiac arrest.” I looked pointedly at Emerson, but he seemed unaffected.

 “Honestly, I don’t deal with the test subjects personally, so this doesn’t mean much to me.” Cage cracked his knuckles, “Now, hand over the memory drive and we’ll be on our way.”

 “Or what?” Octavia bristled, clenching her knuckles, “What are you going to do?”

 “Look, I could’ve brought a group of friends along and taken it by force, Clarke.” Cage ignored Octavia as though she was just a part of the furniture, “But, I came here knowing you to be a woman of reason. I don’t _want_ to have to hurt you.”

 Why did he keep saying that?

 Octavia suddenly reached and grabbed my arm, “Clarke, move!”

 A flash of metal glinted in the corner of my eye, and reflexively I dived to the side.

 My eyes trained on Emerson, a syringe clutched tightly in his hand, “Get the goddamn flash drive, Griffin.”

 Cage seized the opportunity and backhanded Octavia out the way. She whimpered as she hit the floor.

 “Octavia!” I tried to move towards her, automatically.

 But, Emerson advanced towards me, the needle catching the light, “Hold her down while I inject her.” He instructed Cage.

 The two of them turned to me, blocking me from Octavia and I backed away, my eyes flickering to her as she stirred on the carpet. With surprising efficiency, she swept her leg, catching Cage’s ankles.

 He stumbled, trying to retain his balance – but, the second he applied full pressure on his injured foot, he collapsed.

 “Deal with her!” Cage demanded, trying to pick himself up. On his way towards me, Emerson delivered a solid kick to Octavia’s stomach. She rolled backwards, hitting her head against the coffee table with a splitting snap.

 She fell silent.

 And then, I saw red. Red faded to white.

 And I lost all control.

  _Thud._

_Thud._

_Thud._

 I could hear a voice over the sound of my pulse. Coming from somewhere.

 It might’ve been a male.

 He might’ve been shouting.

 But, eventually, it dissolved into a quiet gurgle. And I couldn’t hear it anymore.

 My hands felt hot and sticky, and something slick was sliding down my chin. I was probably holding onto something. There was a pressure against my palm.

 “ _Monty, is she coming?_ ”

 That one was female. I couldn’t place who.

  _Thud._

_Thud._

_Thud._

 “ _Clarke? Clarke!_ ”

 It sounded like Octavia.

 The noise was drowned out by a heavy rush pulsating in my ears.

  _Thud._

_Thud._

_Thud._

 Another voice this time – deeper. But still female.

 I tried to focus my eyes on the door, but I could see nothing except blurred shapes.

 The shapes got closer.

 And closer.

 Until one of them wrapped around me, folding me into a numb embrace. The sensation was familiar.

 Slowly, the shapes began to merge as my eyes adjusted to my surroundings.

 My pulse quietened.

 I blinked, hard.

 My fingers tingled as my brain finally connected with the rest of my body, pushing the feeling back into my nerves.

 “Clarke. It’s okay. You’re safe.”

 Lexa.

  _Lexa_.

 I could feel her pressed against me on the floor, her strong arms holding me tightly to her body. I raised my arms somehow and wound them around her, my head falling against her shoulder, “You’re here.”

 “I’m here.” She murmured, her fingers pulling through my hair, “I’ve got you.”

 She stayed, locked to me, until I finally readjusted, orientating myself back to the present.

 Lexa pulled me to my feet, one arm still wound around my waist as she held me steadily to her side, “Clarke, can you stand?”

 I tested it out, balancing my weight on both feet, “I think so. What… what happened? When did you get here?”

 I felt something firm against my toes, and I glanced down, seeing Cage Wallace sprawled out on the carpet. Emerson was nowhere to be seen.

 “Did I do that?”

 Lexa didn’t release me. She looked over to Octavia, who inclined her head.

 “It was pretty badass, actually.” She had a swelling lump on her forehead, but seemed more or less Octavia, “Well, after that prick doctor booted me and made me hit my head, you sort of… snapped. You kicked Cage in the head as he tried to stand up and, like, got punched in the jaw by the doctor. So, that will definitely hurt in the morning.” She animatedly pressed a bag of ice to her head, continuing her tale, “Then you grabbed onto his wrist and… well, bent it. In a way it shouldn’t have been bent. And you spat the blood out of your mouth right onto his face. It was insane and he was whining like a little bitch and you took the needle off him – but it pricked your hand a little, I think. You were a bit woozy after that. But, you still managed to kick the doctor right in the bollocks. And then you turned around like a machine and just stabbed Cage right in the neck with the needle and injected all of whatever the fuck was in it. Now, he’s out cold. Then, you sort of went a bit floppy and dissociated, but it was worth it. In my opinion, anyway. Maybe not in yours.”

 “Where did Emerson go?” I asked, trying my best to piece it all together in my memory.

 “He bolted.” Octavia raised a large kitchen knife up in her hand, “I don’t think he liked the idea of this getting shoved in his stomach.”

 I lifted my eyebrows, trying to ignore the trembling of my legs, “You threatened to stab him?” I asked, my lips parted in shock, “With my _best_ carving knife?”

 “Jesus. _That’s_ what you’re focusing on right now?”

 I managed a quiet, mildly hysterical, laugh.

 “Should I… go?”

 Oh, god.

 Monty.

 I turned to him, “Are you okay?”

 He shrugged, “I’m okay. I didn’t witness anything that happened because I was hiding with the laptop in the bath behind the shower curtain. Octavia told me to call Indra and stay hidden.”

 “He did a good job.” Octavia grinned, watching in amusement as Monty’s ears flushed pink.

 “What do we do about him?” I asked, indicating to Cage, who was laying there like an expensive Armani rug.

 “I’ll deal with this.” Lexa told me, her expression unreadable, “Do you want to go and clean yourself up?”

 “Yes. And I think… I need a cigarette.” I exhaled, “Do you need a cigarette?” I asked Monty.

 “Now?” He looked up from the unconscious body on the floor, “I would love one.”

 I steadied myself, my fingers brushing over Lexa’s spine gently.

 “Thank you.” I murmured.

 She looked to me, an intensity behind her stare. Had there been only us in the room, I imagined she would’ve spoken what was truly on her mind. Instead, she gave a slight shake of her head, seeming to reject my gratitude.

 Of course. She probably blamed herself for this. Even though, truthfully, it was my fault. Well, no, actually it was Cage’s fault for being a prick. I just always had a bit of a habit getting myself into deep, _deep_ shit.

 Fleetingly, she grazed my temple with her lips, and then released me. I lead Monty through to my bedroom once I’d washed the blood from my hands and face, walking slowly – just in case my body felt the sudden urge to faint.

 I sunk down onto the bed, hearing Lexa’s powerfully uttered commands, even from my room. I felt my stomach clench.

 All I needed in that moment was to be by her side, but I couldn’t face her for a second longer with people watching.

 Truthfully, I wasn’t thinking straight. I needed a moment to breathe. I tossed a bag of weed over to Monty, “Here.”

 His eyes widened, “Clarke, that’s far too much.”

 I shook my head, “Considering the shit I’ve just put you through, Monty, it’s the absolute least I can do. I’m so sorry for dragging you into this. Besides, I really need to quit…”

 I pushed open my window and passed him a cigarette, placing one between my lips.

 He shrugged, sending me his signature geeky smile, “Honestly, it’s the most fun I’ve had in months.”

 “Maybe you should get out more.” I teased, dragging the nicotine into my system.

 “Well, look what happens when I do.” He laughed.

 The two of us smoked in silence after that, both left to our thoughts. My mind never left Lexa. She returned early. For me? Maybe. I wanted her close. But, I wanted her alone. I still felt we had a lot to discuss, but all I really wanted was just to lay with her. Something I’d been craving all week. Amongst other things, too. But, I was far too exhausted to entertain those possibilities at this point.

 We disposed of our cigarette butts out the window, Monty patting down his trousers as he stood up, “I probably should get going.”

 “Of course. Again, thank you. If there’s anything you need ever, let me know and I’m there.” I pulled him into a light hug.

 He patted me on the back and cleared his throat, “Yeah, I will do.”

 When we returned to the living room, and once Monty had said his awkward goodbyes, I found Octavia making hot beverages at the counter as though all of this was perfectly normal.

 “Where’s Lexa?”

 “Outside. She’s having Cage taken to the station, I think. So, they will probably want statements from us at some point.”

 “She’s involving the police?” Honestly, I was just grateful she hadn’t finished off the job on Cage. I didn’t fancy a dead body dirtying up my carpet. I confessed myself a little surprised at the fact she was using public services – she was very much a DIY sort of person. But, then, I supposed she wanted all this done properly. She didn’t want to be implicated by underhanded practice.

 “Yes. You should take that information to them, too. Or to the hospital at least, and let them deal with it.” She told me.

 I nodded, lowering myself onto the sofa, too tired to really think about my next plan of action, “Yeah. Have you made coffee?”

 She placed a mug down in front of me and I curled up into her side, “Are you okay?” I asked her, quietly, “That wound looks painful.”

 She shrugged, “It’s not too bad. Besides, I live with a doctor, so if anything goes wrong, she can fix me up.”

 I laughed as she gave me a squeeze, and sat up to reach for my coffee, “Aren’t you glad I’m your roommate? Think about how boring your life would be without me in it.”

 Octavia said nothing for a moment, before turning to me, “That was the nicest thing I’ve ever imagined.”

 I elbowed her in the ribs, “Rude. Will you let me check your head over? I think the sedative has worn off now, so I’m back to being a capable professional again.”

 She sighed, “You can look, but it’ll be just as swollen after you’ve finished looking as it is now.”

 I stood up in front of her and examined the wound, tending to it a little here and there before patching it up with a dressing, “It’s an open wound, so I don’t want it to get infected.”

 Octavia just shrugged, “It’s fortunate I’m attractive enough to look good no matter what, isn’t it?”

 I snorted, “You’re the vainest and most conceited person I know.”

 She grinned, “I do try.”

 Once I’d finished my coffee, I heard a neat knock at the door. My heart skidded as I stood to my feet, knowing it to be Lexa on the other side. I took a step back to allow her entrance. She looked as composed as ever as she moved gracefully into my apartment. Octavia excused herself, suddenly remembering she had something to do somewhere else – anything to do, anywhere else.

 I was desperately trying to find the words to put an end to the silence between us – and despite there being so much to say, I had nothing. Lexa was a natural when it came to the void of quiet, and she seemed uninterested in saying anything at all. She was fixated on my face, the undecipherable intensity of her eyes flickering across my features. Both trying to gauge the other’s mind-set was near enough impossible. Were we still pissed? Hurt? Or were we just caught in indecision, trying to ignore the weird space between us?

Then, unexpectedly, Lexa’s hand slid to my neck, her thumb running gently along the underside of my jaw, breaking the tension instantly. There was probably a bruise blossoming under her touch from where I’d allegedly been punched in the face. It didn’t hurt. She was too cautious to inflict any pain.

 But, there was still a prodding ache. In retrospect, I hardly noticed it. I was too busy feeling myself come completely undone beneath Lexa’s stare.

 And then, I couldn’t stand it for a second longer. I moved close to her, my body pressing to hers. Her fingers curled around the back of my neck as I tilted my head upwards, my arms winding around her neck. Her free hand slid down my ribs, landing delicately on my hip. Then she kissed me. So softly. So deeply. There was a restrained fervour in her kiss, her lips trembling as they moved with mine. And I knew right then that there wasn’t a need for words. Not now. She conveyed everything to me in that one kiss; in the way she held me; in the way she touched me. I could taste her regret that I’d been put in danger, and I could taste her relief that I was safe. I could taste her questions. So, as best I could, I answered them.

I coaxed her lips apart, sliding my fingers beneath her leather jacket to run over her bare shoulders. She didn’t need my forgiveness, but she sought it, anyway. And I gave it to her willingly and freely. Her sleeves slid down her arms, the jacket hanging from her elbows, as I pulled my fingertips down over her inked skin.

 It was an addiction.

 It wasn’t enough to kiss her. I had to have more. But, not in the way I usually did. It wasn’t that I was seeking sexual gratification – I just needed to have her frame draped over mine, consuming me like a flame. She read my intent and she lowered her arms, letting her jacket slide to the floor. My fingernails grazed over her forearms until I found her wrists, and I pulled them upwards so she was wrapped around me once again.

 Eventually the kiss tapered away and we were left with our foreheads pressed together, eyes closed, in the most intimate embrace we’d shared. Well, the third embrace we’d ever shared. But, still. I’d never felt this close to a person in my entire life. And she returned it. She was mine.

 “Stay here with me tonight. Please.” I whispered, my hands locking together behind her neck.

 She pecked my lips, lightly. I didn’t think she’d had any intention of leaving.

 I pulled away from her and moved my hand to rest in hers, “Do you need anything?”

 She shook her head, still mute.

 “Food? Drink?”

 It must have looked, to outsiders, that I was forever having a one-way conversation with her. I talked far too much, and Lexa not enough. But, between us, we understood each other. And that was enough.

 But, then, she spoke. Her voice was a little dry – to the point that I thought maybe she hadn’t been speaking because she couldn’t; not because she didn’t want to.

 “Just you, Clarke.”

 My stomach did something weird – made me feel light-headed. I nodded, biting my lip, and pulled her towards the bedroom, closing the door behind us. I stripped down to my underwear, wanting to get rid of all the shit my clothes had been through this evening. She watched me, silently. I stood by the bed, returning her gaze in its full capacity, until she removed her own clothing, folding it neatly on my desk chair. I lowered myself onto the mattress, too exhausted to say anything further. Lexa glided into the sheets beside me, her flawless body shaping around mine. Her arm wound around me, her hand coming to rest comfortably on my breast and her lips landing on the back of my neck.

 I felt my eyes drifting, and within minutes, I had fallen asleep in her hold.

 My anxieties slowly dispersed and, in those moments, nothing felt more right. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading and for all your wonderful thoughts! Please, don't hesitate to let me know your opinions - shout them at me if needs be!
> 
> Until next time...
> 
> xox


	20. Chapter 20

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After dealing with the home intrusion from Cage and Emerson, Clarke and Lexa realise they have more to resolve between them. Further complications arise with Lexa's business, leaving her with a difficult decision to make.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for the delayed update. I hope this chapter satiates you enough to not hate me. Enjoy the heat, and please let me know your thoughts.
> 
> Thank you, as always, for your comments.
> 
> Lady Of Cythera  
> xox

.::. _L_.::.

 

 There were still things to be explained. I had pieced some of it together already, but I was certain Clarke and I still had a great deal to discuss. Especially now we had put some sleep between ourselves and the events of the previous night. As somebody who paid particular attention to detail, I confessed myself surprised at how quickly these concerns dissolved on my tongue in the same moment that Clarke stirred. The moment that she turned in my arms, her breast pushing against mine and her thigh sliding to hook around my hip. The moment she fixed her gaze on mine, still hazy and unfocused from exiting the realm of sleep and entering reality. I realised she hadn’t fully accepted the transition; she was rejecting a similar thought process to mine. I knew. I knew because there was a deep, consuming hunger flickering over the startling blue of her eyes.

 Clarke was not up for a discussion.

 She had something else in mind.

 Something I found myself suddenly eager to explore.

 She bit down on her lip, staring me out with a sinful intoxication.

 It shattered my discipline. The way it always did.

 But, then my eyes settled on the purpling bruise beneath her jaw, and the swelling of her mouth.

 I bridled the overwhelming attraction, sliding my hand to the side of her neck, “How are you feeling?”

 Clarke closed her eyes for a brief moment, “I’m okay.”

 I didn’t necessarily disbelieve her, but there was a tension in her features that led me to think she wasn’t as okay as she wanted to be.

 As she wanted me to believe she was.

 She shifted against me lightly, her fingers fanning out over the small of my back, “Lexa, will the police be contacting me today?”

 I shook my head, “I dealt with everything last night.”

 Clarke perhaps was a little confused about the meaning of my words, but I made no further effort to explain. She didn’t seem keen to probe more information out of me, either.

 “Will you tell me what happened?” I asked, eventually.

 Clarke trained her eyes on mine and moved her fingers to trace over my collarbone, “I will.”

  _But…?_

 “But, will you do something for me first?”

 Anything.

She held my gaze for six slow seconds.

 “Just… fuck me?” She murmured, and her words contrasted starkly with the gentle tremor of her tone. All reason was replaced by a thick ache in my stomach. And this was a request I could not, would not, turn down.

 She’d slid her hooks into my skin, and with the smallest tug, I fell captive to her. Again. And again.

 I rolled over so she was beneath me, my hand pulling down her torso to find her hip. I hovered above her, resting myself between her thighs.

 We kissed, then. It was deep, slow, and sensual.

 I touched every part of her, giving her my sole attention. Never taking my eyes from hers. The heat that passed between the two of us was powerful – more powerful than anything I’d ever felt before. She was the _only_ one. Her needs were second nature to me.

 Her nails dug into my shoulder and I pushed my fingers into her, circling my thumb over her centre. I fucked her exactly how she wanted to be fucked.

 Intense.

 Deep.

 I felt the desire clench at my muscles; the desire to see her tremble. To see her come because of me. To watch that tension release her completely.

 She captured my lips in another kiss, stealing my lower lip and biting down softly as I worked her further and further. I moved deeper into her, sliding my tongue across hers, and then I felt the slow waves of pleasure claim her body as she trembled under me, tightening her limbs around my back.

 I swallowed her moans, her laboured breaths hot in my mouth.

 And I gave it to her again.

 This time, faster.

 Her shudders prolonged, her whimpers morphing into unharnessed moans.

 Even as her body began to recover, she didn’t let me go. She held me tight to her, her head buried into the crook of my neck.

 I moved my hand to the back of her head, her locks falling between my fingers. Her shoulders were still shaking, and I could feel her whisper into my skin a quiet, “I’m sorry.”

 Carefully, I pulled back, searching her face for a reason.

 Elation lined her features, but it wasn’t a solitary emotion. There was something else.

 “What is it?”

 “I was… I was so angry with you. When you were away.” She tilted her head back, her hands resting against my biceps as I propped myself up on my elbows.

 I knew she had been angry. I was no stranger to Clarke’s fury.

 “I shouldn’t have let Cage get to me, but he did. He sent me pictures of you with other women and with Luna, and I…” She took a steadying breath, “… and I couldn’t _bear_ it. The thought of you making somebody else feel the way you make me feel… or vice versa. I said some things I regret. I know that trust for the both of us is important, and I hurt you when I said some of those things.”

 “I hurt you, too.” I said, eventually, “I should have been honest about Luna before I left.”

 Clarke sighed, “Maybe. We both should have been honest. I had expectations of you without telling you where I stood first. So…” She readjusted herself beneath me, pulling my legs so I was straddling her, “… I’m going to be honest with you, now.”

 I felt my heart judder as she sat up so we were facing each other, one of her hands on my hip and the other cupping the side of my neck.

 “Lexa, I want to be with you. Only you.”

 Of course, there had always been the unspoken tension between us – the fact that we couldn’t deny how badly we wanted the other, but equally that neither of us had explicitly declared we wanted nobody else before all of this. But, hearing her voice it so openly made me weightless.

 I felt a small smile tug at one corner of my lips, “Why, Clarke Griffin, are you asking me to be your girlfriend?”

 “Oh, my god, really? You’re choosing now to be a dick?” She scowled, clipping my behind with her fingertips.

 “Is that a yes?” I teased, linking my hands behind her neck.

 She growled softly and moved her lips close to mine, “Yes. Only because you’re too pussy to ask me yourself.”

 “Well, you are intimidating.”

 “What did I just say about being a dick?”

 I felt my laugh pour into her mouth and I attempted to muffle it with a kiss. She humoured me for a few moments before pulling away.

 “Well?” She raised an eyebrow, petulantly.

 I knew I was smiling, but it wasn’t just out of amusement anymore. It was something deeper. It licked my chest, igniting a fire behind my ribcage.

 Happiness, maybe.

 “Yes, Clarke. I‘m yours.”

 “Good, and for god’s sake, take your personal phone with you next time you go anywhere.”

 “Is this what it’s going to be like being your girlfriend? Listening to you tell me what to do all the time?”

 “Yes.” She grabbed both my hips and dropped down onto her back, “So, sit on my face and shut up.”

  _Yes, ma’am_.

 

…

 

 Clarke had explained to me over breakfast what had occurred the night before; how she had stolen the memory drive – which had contained more information than what I had. She knew she would have to involve the hospital board about it because Emerson had used resources to conduct malpractice on site. I couldn’t help but admire her for her unshakeable determination to do what was right, regardless of how difficult that might have been. Or what might happen to her because of it.

 I watched her as she stood by the sink, washing the plates. I was content just allowing her to fill my vision.

 “Your phone is ringing, Clarke.” I informed her at the disturbance of the sound, picking the device off the table and moving to stand beside her.

 “Who is it?” She asked, “Wet hands.”

 “It’s your mother.”

 “Put it on speaker.”

 I did as she asked and held the phone in front of her face as she continued scrubbing at the dishes.

 “Hey, Mom.”

 “ _Hey, baby. Is everything okay?_ ”

 She sighed, scrubbing at the plate in her hands, “It is now. I think.”

 “ _Well, it might interest you to know Cage Wallace is in custody – and looking quite bruised, too. You wouldn’t happen to know anything about that, would you?_ ”

 She laughed, a little awkwardly, “You know I’ve always thrown a good punch…”

 “ _Clarke!_ ”

 “What? It’s true.”

 “ _What happened?_ ”

 She surmised the events of the previous night, avoiding going into vast amounts of detail – presumably for her own sake and for her mother’s.

 “ _Clarke, you’re not telling me everything, are you?_ ”

 Clarke groaned, pulling off the rubber gloves, “Well, no, because I know what you’re like. You’ll get all maternal on me and stuff.”

 “ _Oh, god forbid your own mother should ever get maternal on you!_ ”

 She dried her hands before taking the phone from me, “Well, look the point is, we’re all fine now. Emerson will hopefully get arrested or hit by a bus, or something. Lexa has been dealing with Wallace, and now you and the directors can figure out which pharmaceutical company you want to get screwed over by next, so you know… it’ll be okay.”

 Abby expelled a short laugh, “ _Confidence inspiring. Is Lexa with you now?_ ”

 “…Yes.” Clarke replied, her eyes shifting over to mine, slowly.

 “ _Ah, that’s why you don’t want me going all maternal on you, isn’t it? You’re afraid I’ll embarrass you._ ”

 I could see the irritation lining her features and I smirked, quirking an eyebrow.

 “Yes. That’s the reason why.” Clarke muttered, “Listen, I’ll speak to you later, okay?”

 “ _Okay, take some time off, baby. Get a bit of rest._ ”

 “I plan on it. I’m going to spend the day doing absolutely nothing.”

 Nothing? I tilted my head to one side, watching the way Clarke’s cheeks coloured subtly as our eyes locked.           

 “ _Be good, Clarkey-Warkey, won’t you?_ ”

 The irritation quickly cloaked her features, pushing aside the beginnings of her lust, “Goodbye, mother.”

 She hung up without blinking and slid the phone back into her pocket. I didn’t leave her much time to even breathe before I claimed her hips in my hands, pulling her hips into me, “Clarkey-Warkey?”

 “ _You_ are on thin ice as it is, Miss… Lexa.” Her eyebrows creased, grumpily.

 “It’s a shame I don’t have a surname for you to use against me, isn’t it?” I angled my lips down to her jaw and grazed my teeth over the bone, “Doctor Griffin.”

 “Oh, my god. Stop” She hissed, her fingers curling around my shoulders, compromising our positions quite suddenly, “I’ve just had my fair share of teasing from my mother. I strongly advise you to keep your mouth shut.”

 I quirked an eyebrow, “But, if my mouth is shut, how am I supposed to–”

 It was inconsequential as it turned out.

 Clarke’s teeth on my lip battled away any further facetious comments I might’ve been inclined to make.

 I found myself trapped between her agitation and the kitchen counter, “Now, you’re going to listen to me very carefully.” She exhaled softly, once she’d released my lip.

 She was absolutely correct. I was going to listen to her very carefully. She already knew it. The way her gaze pushed hard against me left me little choice.

 “You’re going to keep your pretty little mouth shut until I say you can use it. Understand?”

 I understood.

 “Now, you’re going to go into the bedroom and drop your clothes. Okay?”

 Silently, I made my way towards her bedroom, an unfamiliar, but pleasant, chill snaking over my skin. I loved it when she was wound up. This side of her was something else entirely.

 I thought back to our conversation before I left and the way Clarke had hinted at… experimental approaches to fucking. I still wasn’t sure how I felt about the thought of rope and other such props. But, I couldn’t get enough of Clarke in the state she was in.

 I made a mental note to myself to aggravate her more often.

 Given enough exposure to this aspect of her character, I’d be certainly open to the suggestion of using–

 “ _Clothes_.”

 She was behind me, stalking me like a predator. It was a rare sensation for me to be the one to feel like the prey.

 I dropped my clothes and turned to face her.

 She inclined her head in approval, flickering her gaze over the angles of my body. It always gave me a thrill to know she liked what she saw.

 “You can take off one article of my clothing. Choose carefully which one it’s going to be.”

 I observed her carefully. The obvious choice would be her top. Maybe her panties – of course, I was certain I could persuade her to remove her jeans so I could access said undergarment. But, she wasn’t in the mood to be negotiated with.

 Instead, I took a step forwards and slid my arm around her waist, moving my fingertips gently up her spine. I liked letting her wonder what I would do next.

 Slowly, I wrapped my hand around the band holding her hair up out of her face. I pulled it out, watching the blonde waves fall delicately over her shoulders.

 I could tell she hadn’t expected that. I could tell because she emitted a soft “oh”. Because her eyes softened as I moved backwards to look at her.

 Then she pressed her lips to mine, her body curving against me. 

 I avoided smirking into her mouth. I wanted to keep on her good side.

 For now at least.

 While I had her in my arms, I wanted to take full advantage.

 Firstly, of her ass. It sat so perfectly in my hands. My thumbs dragged over the shape, pulling her hips firmly into mine.

 Right when I was certain she’d relented her control, she brushed her teeth across my earlobe, “Just because I like the way you touch me, it doesn’t mean you’re in charge, you know.”

 I acknowledged this with a light nod, eager to kiss her once again. I sought out her mouth, but she was teasing me; goading me. I took the bait, growling quietly.

  _Let me kiss you_.

 She didn’t.

 Instead, Clarke pushed me backwards onto the mattress, admiring my naked body from where she stood.

 I watched her, powerlessly. She took her time, leisurely trailing her fingertips over my thighs.

 “Something wrong?” She arched an eyebrow, her hand slipping closer and closer towards my centre.

 I shook my head, resting my teeth over my lower lip.

 “Are you sure?” She brushed her fingers over me, applying just enough pressure to leave me desperate.

 This time, I couldn’t respond with any sort of conviction.

 She was killing me.

 And she knew it.

 I felt my head loll backwards into the pillows as she touched me, her fingers working effortlessly.

 “Come for me.” She instructed.

 She was going to give it to me that easily?

 But, Clarke was no stranger to the way my body worked. She knew exactly how to pleasure me – even with just one hand. I didn’t have the capacity to question why she was allowing me to finish this soon. Before she’d even undressed herself – because I knew she would. Eventually. Or at least, she would if I didn’t do it first.

 I shuddered heavily against the mattress, bunching the sheets tightly in my fists.

 “Good. I need you wet and tight.”

 Well, her mission was accomplished.

 Like clockwork, she began to remove her clothes before she dropped over me, her thighs straddling my hips.

 Finally. Skin on skin.

 A low growl left my throat as I tilted my head backwards, my hands grappling her hips, pulling them against mine. Straightening herself up, she pressed her hands to my stomach, “There are so many things I want to do with you.”

 I paused, my thumbs pressing against the crease of her thighs. She had this wild look in her eyes when I stilled, as though she hadn’t even heard the words that had left her own lips.

 So, I gave her a prompt. I ran my eyes over her naked torso, raising an eyebrow. To my surprise, she just smirked, “Oh, you want me to tell you?”

 Wasn’t it obvious?

 Of course it was. She just took delight in stretching me.

 And I took delight in being stretched.

 “Have you ever used a strap-on, Lexa?”

 My eyes widened, completely caught off-guard.

 She dragged her nails along my chest, leaning forwards without taking her eyes off mine, “Well?”

 I inclined my head, my heart now hammering chaotically against my sternum.

 “Have you ever been fucked with one?”

 Slowly, I shook my head. Now it made sense why she’d already let me come.

 “Would you like to be fucked with one?”

 “Fetch it.” I commanded, quietly.

 She pressed a lingering kiss to my forehead and slipped off my body, dropping to her knees on the carpet and reaching under her bed for a box. I watched her, the maddening need for her to touch me again intensifying. She pulled it out of its packaging and I confessed myself deeply intrigued. Or infatuated. I wasn’t sure which. The longer I looked at her, the more I wanted to have her beneath me.

 “Wait.” I sat up, Clarke’s eyes shifting up to mine from the floor where she sat.

 She angled her head to the side, “What, you don’t trust my techniques?”

 I let my eyes roll over her features, “Oh, you and I both know I hold your technique in the highest regard. But, I want to use it on you.”

 Silently, she handed it over to me.

 I took it and stood to my feet, “Get on the bed.”

 

.::. _C_.::.

 

 To be fair to Lexa, she had lasted much longer as my submissive than I’d expected her to. I also knew how difficult she found it to be the one to receive all the pleasure without giving anything back in return. On top of that, I was finding it increasingly difficult to deny Lexa what she wanted. She was watching me with an understated tenderness in her gaze. It was mostly concealed by desire, but I still noticed it.

 When she was ready, Lexa lowered herself onto the mattress in a sitting position, one hand sliding to my neck, “Kiss me.”

 I did. I pressed my lips to hers, a quiet whimper leaving my throat as she pulled me to straddle her hips without breaking the kiss for longer than half a second.

 She moved me so quickly, I barely had time to address the nervous flutter in my stomach.

 Our bodies pressed together intimately as she guided me onto the item protruding from her middle.

 I gasped, softly biting down on her lip as she rocked into me.

 Wrapping my arms around her shoulders, I dropped my forehead against hers.

 We were close. So close it made my chest ache.

 Her right hand curled around my hipbone, her left climbing up my spine. She paced it well, taking her time to find the spot that would make me – “Fuck!” – do that.

 She kept me pressed to her torso for a few more moments, her mouth hovering by mine. It was almost a kiss.

 My nails dug deep into her shoulders, spurring her to move faster.

 As the heat rose between our bodies, Lexa’s grip tightened on my waist. I was biting on her lip, my fingers tangling firmly into her hair. Then, without warning, she stood up, my thighs automatically wrapping around her hips. She adjusted me easily, spinning around before depositing me effortlessly onto the bed.

 “Roll over.” Her voice was low; husky.

The second I balanced on my knees, she had claimed my hips from behind, entering me once more.

 “ _Jesus_ _Chri_ –”

 I didn’t get to complete my blasphemy due to the hand I found taking a fistful of my hair.

 God, she knew what she was doing.

 If I wasn’t already aware that it wasn’t possible for people to suddenly sprout extra limbs out of the blue, I’d seriously be questioning whether Lexa hadn’t acquired an extra couple of hands. She reached around me to circle her fingers between my legs, still tugging lightly on my hair.

 I was certain there was plenty she still had in mind for me, but it was getting harder and harder to maintain control.

 She released my hair, pulling her nails down my back and clipping my rear, “You like me fucking you.”

 I couldn’t explain why her simple observation drove me to the edge, but it did. But, just as I was about to let myself go, she stopped. I growled in quiet frustration, knowing exactly the kind of smirk she’d be wearing on her lips without needing to look at her over my shoulder.

 “I want to see your face when I make you come.” She informed me, waiting for me to roll onto my back.

 Admittedly, I was craving the eye contact.

 The air left my lungs as she moved me further up the bed, kneeling between my thighs. With ease, she lowered her hips to mine, tangling our fingers together as she carried me to the brink of gratification. She held me so surely, her mouth laying kisses on the skin of my neck. But, the second I began to tremble, she pulled back to absorb the expression on my face – God only knew what it was doing.

 I breathed her name, grabbing her arms tightly as she pushed me further.

 For a few moments, I couldn’t speak, let alone move.

 Lexa’s touch softened, combing through my hair with her fingers as I recovered. And _that_ was what almost destroyed me – the way she had gone from fucking me, almost mercilessly, to caressing me with a gentleness reserved only for me.

 Only when I had caught my breath back did she disentangle herself from me, unfastening the strap-on from around her waist.

“I’m not done with you, you know. There are still plenty of hours left in the day and I do not intend on wasting them.” I told her, finally able to push myself up onto my elbows.

 She looked at me, mildly amused, “I’m yours to do with as you please.”

 Granted, I might not have had the stamina Lexa did, but I was absolutely going to keep going until I dropped, “Well, in that case…” I held out a hand, “Pass me the strap-on.”

 

…

 

 I wasn’t sure how much time had passed before I finally collapsed into the sheets, utterly drained. Lexa fell onto her side next to me, her hair ruffled, cheeks pinched, and lips swollen.

 My room was a dire mess, decorated (less than artfully) with clothing, pillows and blankets.

 I released a prolonged “fuuuuuuck”, my entire body sinking into the mattress as I stared up at the ceiling.

 “Mm, I quite agree.” Lexa nodded, laughing softly between shallow breaths.

 “My entire face hurts.” I remarked, reaching up to hold one side of my head, “I probably need some painkillers.”

 Lexa examined me through lidded eyes, “I’m impressed you managed to do all that especially considering your injuries.”

 I nodded, eventually rolling out of bed to delve around in my desk drawer for some pills, “I’m going to shower. Want to join?”

 She waited until I knocked back the painkillers before she followed me towards the bathroom, “I must admit, even I’m quite burnt out.”

 I smirked, closing the door behind us and switching on the shower, “Even you? Good heavens, what have I done to you?”

 “Oh, you did many things to me.” She offered me her signature slow smile – the one that poked at each corner of her lips, just enough to betray her good humour. I pulled her into the shower behind me, feeling the warm water gush over the tenderness of my muscles. She seemed content enough just watching the jets soak my skin, her eyes flickering over each part of my body.

 “You’re insatiable.” I chastised, turning away from her with a coy smile.

 “You’re addictive.” She shrugged, stepping underneath the water with me, her hand sliding to my hip. It wasn’t provocative the way she touched me. She did it naturally, without calculation.

 We cleaned ourselves in comfortable silence after that, occasionally catching the other’s eye. It felt odd to me, seeing Lexa lower her guard when out of her own territory. I wasn’t used to seeing her so relaxed out of her home environment and it gave me a sense of indescribable pleasure. Despite the awful occurrences of the past week and a half, it felt as though a great deal of good had come from it all. I wasn’t aware I was smiling until Lexa mirrored my expression.

 Maybe she was thinking the same.

 Once we’d dried off and stepped out onto the corridor, I almost knocked into Octavia.

 “The entire flat smells like sex.” She grumbled as a way of greeting.

 “Well, hello to you too, O.” I inclined my head, tightening the towel around my chest, “How are you feeling?”

 “I’ve had better days. Lincoln is pissed off at me because of this.” She gestured moodily to her head injury, “I’ve spent the entire day _not_ having sex and instead listening to him tell me off for allowing criminals into the flat.”

 “You know, you’ve definitely made better choices in the past.” I teased, to which I received a frightening death glare.

 “Asshole.”

 I took a step forwards and pulled her into a hug, pressing a light kiss to her cheek, “I’m going to order in and make shit loads of tea. How’s that?”

 She protested verbally at the contact, but begrudgingly returned my hug anyway, “You’d better. Hi, Lexa.”

 “Hello, Octavia.”

 “And I want ice cream, too.”

 “You can have whatever you like.” I pulled away from her and she wrinkled her nose at the damp patch on her jumper (courtesy of my towel).

 “You’ve made me all wet.” She complained, catching sight of my smirk and holding up a finger in front of my face, “Don’t. Just… don’t.”

 I raised my hands in surrender, “Alright, alright. Lips, sealed. No innuendos about how I arouse you.”

 Octavia tutted, “And there it is.”

 I didn’t apologise, but instead gestured to her bedroom, “Go put on your PJs or something. I need to get dried off first.”

 Once she’d disappeared into her room, I lead Lexa into mine, grabbing a baggy hoody and sweatpants for myself before turning to her, “Do you want some comfies?”

 She observed me for a second before taking a step closer to me, “I don’t want to intrude on your evening with Octavia.”

 I leaned forwards, landing a kiss on the corner of her lips, “I’m not ready for you to go yet.”

 “Are you sure?” She caught my hand in hers, gently, “I don’t want to be a nuisance.”

 I laughed before I could stop myself, “You do have an interesting way with words, don’t you?”

 She didn’t seem to share in the humour, her expression still serious, “I mean it, Clarke. I’m responsible for what happened yesterday.”

 I sighed, shaking my head, “Lexa, listen to me…” I pulled her closer to me, moving my hands to rest on her hips, “I’m responsible for taking the memory drive. Cage and Emerson are responsible for doing what they did. You’re responsible for turning up and reaching me when nobody else could. It was your voice I heard… it was you who held me. It was you who disposed of Cage.”

 She listened to me, as she always did, her eyes fixing on mine.

 “What I’m trying to say is that you’re not a nuisance. If Octavia held anything against you, trust me when I say that you’d know about it.” 

 “And you’re certain you’ve not had enough of me?” She quirked an eyebrow with provocative subtlety.

 “I mean, you are a lot of trouble.”

 “It’s a habit I picked up from a doctor I know.”

 I smirked, dropping my towel, “Sounds like my kind of doctor.”

 Lexa’s lips pulled upwards slightly, “Oh, I’m sure you’d find you have lots in common.”

 I dressed myself and headed over to my wardrobe, “Surely you’re not trying to insinuate that _I’m_ trouble, are you?”

 She was behind me within seconds, her lips on the back of my head, “Now, why would I insinuate something like that?”

 For a moment, I stopped what I was doing – not voluntarily. I just forgot the reason why I was searching for clothes in the wardrobe. Despite knowing Lexa and I had spent the majority of the day tangled up in the bedsheets, and in each other, she still managed to make my heart falter.

 I became acutely aware that her towel was really _quite_ absent.

 How was this possible? I was pretty sure I had reached the maximum number of orgasms that day, and yet… she was working me up all over again.

 Her fingers slipped beneath the hem of my hoody and landed on my hips, tracing slow and deliberate circles over the bones.

 “Lexa…” I breathed, my head tilting back, my body leaning heavily into her.

 With one hand, she pulled my dampened hair over my left shoulder, her mouth finding the skin at the nape of my neck, “Mm?”

 I didn’t have a response. She and I both knew I had lost all ability to interact on any verbal platform.

 “You were finding me some clothes.” She prompted, her teeth grazing the back of my ear.

 “Right.” I managed, reaching forwards with a shaky hand to take a hold of a pair of shorts and a jumper, “H-here.”

 She moved one arm around me to take a hold of the articles before she pulled away from me, leaving me totally immobile. I knew she was smirking. I’d felt the shape of her lips as they dragged over my jaw.

 The second she’d dressed herself, I forced myself to turn, taking in the sight of her donned in my clothes. It wasn’t fair how good she looked in casual attire.

 “ _Clarke, I don’t hear the kettle boiling!_ ” Octavia yelled from the confines of her bedroom.

 “Yeah – yep! Coming!” I delivered a scathing glare over to Lexa, who seemed utterly unaffected by the heavy flush of my cheeks. I strode past her, landing a firm slap on her rear as I opened the door.

 She’d deserved that. And she knew it.

 

…

 

  “So, you’re not seeing Lincoln tonight then?” I asked Octavia, settling myself into the cushions and helping myself to a plate of salt and pepper chicken.

 “No, I damn well am not.” She returned, bypassing the Chinese food and going straight for the fudge brownie ice-cream instead, “He can piss off.”

 I waited for her to expand as I passed Lexa a drink. She took a graceful sip, her thigh resting lightly beside mine.

 “I get why he’d be annoyed. I look dreadful with this egg on my head.” She gestured to the swelling lump on her head, “But, he seems to think I could’ve avoided getting twatted by that prick. We were going to have dinner tonight but I couldn’t be bothered listening to him grouch at me all evening, so I told him to call me when he decides to stop being an ass.”

 “And he’s not called you yet?” I raised an eyebrow.

 “Of course he has.” She rolled her eyes, trying to speak around the spoon protruding out of her mouth, “But, I didn’t feel like answering at the time.” She continued, haughtily.

 “You realise…” I began, swallowing my current mouthful, “that he’s going to turn up here if you ignore him.”

 She fired me a look of contemptuous disbelief, “Oh, yeah, right. He hates it when I’m in a mood.”

 “He hates it even more when you’re in a mood because of something he’s said, though.” I pointed out, “I give it 20 minutes at most.”

 “You’re wrong.” Octavia shook her head, tucking her legs beneath her as she aggressively spooned more ice-cream into her mouth.

 “You and I both know I’m never wrong.”

 She scoffed, humourlessly, “Bullshit.”

 It was around five minutes later when we collectively heard a knock at the door.

 “Wonder who that could be.” I commented, nonchalantly.

 Octavia remained motionless for a moment, still chewing over whether she would remain angry at the world or not, “I still think you’re wrong.”

 “I’m what, sorry? Wrong?” I raised my eyebrows, tossing a piece of chicken in her direction, “Go and get the door.”

 Grumpily, she rose to her feet and stalked her way over to the door, opening it up to, lo and behold, Lincoln.

 “What do you want?” She demanded, although with a little less venom than I’d expected.

 I could hear Lincoln attempting to reason with her over the threshold.

 “It’ll be another 10 seconds of Octavia being angry before she finally decides to let him in.” I informed Lexa, shrugging, “Then, she’ll probably mooch over to her room. Then, they’ll probably have sex and be right as rain again.”

 Lexa angled her head to one side, studying me with intrigue, “And you’re never wrong?”

 “Oh, rarely.” I inclined my head over to the door, “Watch.”

 As if on cue, Octavia released a growl and stomped away from the door, crossing the living room over to her bedroom.

 “Hi, Linc.” I smiled, raising my fork in a half-wave.

 He offered me an awkward head-bob, “Hey, Clarke. I like what you’ve done to your jaw.”

 “Thanks.” I tapped the injury carefully, “Thinking of getting the other side done, too.”

 “I’m all for symmetry.” He kicked off his shoes and nudged them in a row next to the other footwear.

 “See you in a bit.”

 He nodded, “Yeah. See you in a bit.”

 Lincoln followed Octavia into her bedroom, closing the door behind him. I returned my attention to my food, “See?”

 “Interesting.”

 Once we’d both eaten about as much as we could manage, I shoved the plates onto the coffee table and stretched my legs across Lexa’s. Her hands received my thighs easily, her fingers curling around the muscle, “Content?”

 “Yes. Are you?”

 She inclined her head, squeezing my thigh gently, “Yes.”

 “Are you back to work tomorrow?” I asked, watching as she distractedly tapped away at her phone with her free hand.

 “I have a few things that need sorting out, yes.”

 “Cage Wallace things?”

 “Partially.”

 I considered this. I knew she didn’t like discussing work with me. It didn’t bother me, particularly. I knew that there was little of my work I could discuss with her, due to confidentiality and also due to the fact that it would take a lot of background explaining before she had enough context to know what I was talking about. It wasn’t that I didn’t believe Lexa had the capability to learn medical jargon; she probably knew a lot more than I expected her to. It was just that we worked in such different roles. I didn’t understand much about her line of work, and as much as I wanted her to share her challenges with me, there would be very little advice I could offer her.

 “Are you okay?”

 She glanced across at me, briefly, “Yes.”

 I didn’t push her any further and instead flickered my gaze over to the television.

 She said very little once she put away her phone, her eyes training on the documentary. Ordinarily, I would assume her thoughts were elsewhere, but her palm was snaking up my thigh.

 Surely she wasn’t ready again?

 I felt my breathing still as I watched her fingers tuck beneath the elastic of my shorts.

 She did nothing further, but allowed her thumb to run over my waist.

 As she sat, perfectly poised and perfectly inviting, I lifted myself up and crawled towards her. She looked at me then, wrapping her arm around my waist so she could pull me into her side. She made no further attempt to seduce me, although there was no doubt she could have easily done exactly that should she have wanted to. Instead, Lexa allowed me to settle myself comfortably against her, her arm winding around my shoulders.

 This whole thing was new to us. At least, it felt new to me. Sometimes, despite the fact we had spent the best part of the day naked together, it was moments like this felt the most intimate. Lexa was incredible in bed – and I meant _incredible_. But, it felt fucking good to have her accommodate my body so naturally, her heart thudding steadily in her chest.

 “Well, don’t you two just look adorable?” Octavia grinned over at us as she swanned into the living room with Lincoln close behind her.

 “Good sex, then?” I queried, already knowing the answer.

 I could feel Lexa’s amusement as the two of them plonked onto the loveseat opposite.

 “I was great, yes. As I always am.” Octavia nudged Lincoln, “I had to avoid saying the word h-e-a-d, though. It’s a bit of a trigger for Linc at the moment.” She indicated vaguely to the ‘egg’ (her preferred term for ‘head-injury’).

 “Why? Your head was good.” He smirked, digging his fingers into her side, playfully.

 “Jesus.” I muttered, “I’ve just eaten. Can we not?”

 Octavia laughed, freely, “Oh, come on. I’m entitled.”

 “You’re definitely something. Not sure I’d use the word ‘entitled’, though.”

 Lexa patted my thigh, distracting me from Octavia’s retort as she retrieved her phone from the hoody pocket, “Sorry, Clarke. I just need to take this call.”

 I shifted slightly so she could get up off the sofa, watching her as she swiped her thumb over the screen, answering the call in her usual business-like manner. She switched demeanour so easily, it felt peculiar. The second she was upright, phone against her ear, Lexa was all business. Even whilst wearing my short shorts.

 “What is it?” She walked purposefully towards my bedroom, flawlessly composed, disappearing behind the door.

 “Well, at least you got you a girl who can do both at the same time.” Octavia remarked, jerking her head towards the space Lexa had been standing moments ago, “Professionalism in your scraggy jumper and unused sports shorts.”

 “I know how to pick ‘em.”

 “Can we watch something that isn’t about serial killers for a change?” Lincoln grabbed the remote from Octavia’s lap and flicked through the channels.

 “I’m not watching football, Linc. Football players are worse than psychopaths.” She rolled her eyes, trying to swat the controls from his hand, “Put a film on or something.”

 “Oh, yeah. You know how that will go down. ‘Let’s watch a movie we all like’.” He imitated, “To which you then choose a low budget 80s sci-fi drama.”

 “Blade Runner was not that low budget. Besides, you’re a guy! You’re supposed to like that shit.”

 I phased out of their bickering, knowing full well that Octavia would end up putting on whatever it was she wanted, anyway. Lexa still hadn’t returned from the bedroom and I was starting to question whether all was well for her after all. I didn’t want to pry, but… I also _really_ wanted to pry. I gave it another five minutes or so before I began to get a little twitchy. She never spent a long time on the phone in any usual scenario. As it was pretty clear by this point Lexa valued precision, I knew she must be facing some kind of complication if she was entertaining a conversation this long.

 I decided now would be an excellent time to take a pee break and I excused myself to the bathroom, passing by my bedroom deliberately as I went.

 “… _knows not to lie to me. He’s fully aware of the consequences if he double-crosses me… No… She must know he’s working against her_ …”

 I felt my brow furrow slightly. Who was she talking about? Not that it was any of my business, of course. I just wanted to know she was safe.

 “ _…if this is the move she’s making, we need to triple security… No. I have only just got back. I will not be leaving again… end of discussion_.”

 I wasn’t sure if that really was the end of discussion, but I quickly stepped into the bathroom and closed the door. Triple up security? Leaving town? I was certain she would tell me if there was anything to seriously worry about. But, then, would she tell me? She didn’t want to mix business and her personal life for very transparent reasons; for one, that’s how she lost Costia. For two, that’s how she almost lost me. Yet, at the same time, even if she didn’t tell me everything – which I knew she wouldn’t – surely she would let me know if she was in any real danger. She would know I’d be pissed off if she kept anything from me on that scale.

 Once I’d dried my hands, I left the bathroom, opening up the door to find Lexa standing on the other side. She was looking at me intently.

 “Do you need to use it?” I asked, stepping to one side so she could get past me if needed. As it turned out, it was not needed. For a moment, she didn’t answer. I broke the silence building between us, “Or do you just like listening to me pee?”

 Ordinarily, that might’ve gotten a laugh out of her. But, not this time.

 “Were you listening to me?” She asked, somewhat directly; she evidently hadn’t switched off her business-like persona just yet.

 “I had a quick listen on my way to the bathroom. I didn’t mean to intrude. I just wanted to make sure you were okay. You know… after the events of the last few weeks, I’m just worried something else is going to happen, that’s all. I don’t want a repeat.” I wasn’t defensive per se, but I felt suddenly very exposed by the way her pale green stare bore heavily into mine, “Are you… angry with me?”

 Mild shock flickered over her features and her pursed lips finally parted, “No. Of course not. I just… I didn’t want you to worry. Everything’s fine.”

 “So, you’re tripling security because everything’s fine?” I countered, leaning against the doorframe.

 The tension returned to her features, but she remained generally unmoving, “Everything’s fine _because_ I’m tripling security. Cage wasn’t my only enemy, Clarke. In fact, up until recently, he was the least of my problems.”

 “Right… then what’s at the top of your problems?” I asked, the weight of her gaze starting to chip away at my confidence.

 “A rival business-owner. She’s the one responsible for the attack on Gustus.”

 I waited, but it seemed that was all I was getting from her.

 “Look, Lexa, I know you don’t like talking business with me. I get that. But, this is your life we’re talking about. That attack on Gustus? That was an attack on you. I don’t know who this rival business-owner is, but it sounds like you’re a target.”

 “I’m always a target, Clarke. It’s part and parcel of my occupation.”

 Her guard crept higher and higher, and maybe that was due to me being a judgey little bastard, but I couldn’t run the risk of losing her. Not again. I took a steady breath, trying to reel myself in.

 “I’m sorry.” I resigned, glancing down at the floor between our feet, “I trust you, Lexa. But, I need you to have that same trust in me, too.”

 “I do trust you, Clarke.” She murmured, her tone softening marginally.

 I thought about this, knowing the difficulties she’d faced in the past. Knowing she’d been through betrayals of every sort since childhood. Knowing she’d placed her trust in others before, only to lose them.

 “I know how hard that is for you.” I responded, quietly.

 She slid her phone back into the front pocket of the hoody, “It’s hard for you, too.”

 I shrugged, trying out a laugh, “I mean, who _doesn’t_ have trust issues nowadays?”

 Lexa didn’t smile, but the sharp edge of her gaze ebbed away.

 “Are you leaving?” I asked, to which she shook her head.

 “No. My team is a little divided in opinion at present. Not everybody is pleased with my decision to accept my rival’s son in the business. Some think I should go and call in a favour from one of my associates out of town, but I don’t feel it’s necessary.”

 “What sort of favour?” I couldn’t help my curiosity.

 “A little backup to handle Nia – the woman currently trying to sabotage my business.”

 By ‘sabotage her business’, I presumed Lexa meant that Nia was intending on killing her. Or at least, planning on causing significant harm.

  I nodded my head, “How are you going to make sure she doesn’t succeed?”

 Lexa studied me for a couple of seconds before she spoke, “What would you suggest?”

 “Me? I don’t have any solutions. Hell, I don’t know much about your line of work. I assume there’s the whole ‘kill or get killed’ tactic. You already know my stance on that.”

 “Nia doesn’t negotiate. I can’t see any alternative at this point.”

 “What do you have that she wants?”

 Lexa’s lips twitched, but I couldn’t figure out why. Her stare hollowed once again.

 “Everything.”

 I frowned, “So, she won’t stop until you’re… well, until you’re…” I tried to find a diplomatic way of putting it, but Lexa saved me the trouble.

 “She wants me dead, yes. She’s tried before and she will try again.”

 This wasn’t offering me any sort of assurances.

 The muscle in her jaw tightened over the bone and her hand balled up into a fist by her thigh.

 “What is it?”

 “I don’t have any alternatives.”

 “If you have everything she doesn’t, doesn’t that put you at an advantage?”

 She shrugged, lightly, “But, for how long? The only way of stopping her futile anger is to end her.”

 Determination, maybe… or fury? The darkness shadowing her eyes was difficult to decode, but I was beginning to think that maybe ending Nia was her _preferred_ tactic. Not her only one.

 “You want her dead.”

 Lexa said nothing.

 I returned her stare, hoping to get some answers. But, she didn’t waver.

 That, in itself, confirmed what I already believed. I didn’t want to believe it, but I couldn’t see another reason for the flex of her jaw and the simmering bloodlust in her eyes.

 “Why?” I frowned. There had to be a reason. She didn’t give me one. Not verbally.

 Power? She already had that.

 Simply for the reason that it was the easiest option? She had never shied from a challenge.

 “I have my reasons.” She said at last, “I might deserve judgement from you, Clarke. But, that doesn’t mean I need it.”

 I raised both eyebrows, “I’m not trying to judge you. I’m trying to understand you. I’m trying to work with you to figure out if there’s a better way of solving this problem. One that won’t lead to you getting jail time.”

 But, we’d had this conversation before. She had connections; she could probably evade the law. Even so, the idea of Lexa murdering somebody sent a cold shudder through my bones.

 The only other feasible reason would be… revenge.

 I thought back to the letter she’d sent me some months ago.

 I felt my chest deflate.

 “Costia.” I breathed, quietly, “It was Nia, wasn’t it?”

 That was when she looked away from me, her face angling to the left. She was rarely one to break eye contact. With anyone.

 In that moment, I hurt for her. I knew she wouldn’t want me to. But, I did. It struck me through my chest and I bit down on my lip, “Lexa…”

 “I should go, Clarke.” She spoke, softly, “You shouldn’t have to deal with this. I don’t want to spoil the day we’ve had.”

 With what? Deal with the fact that she was still trying to process grief? Still trying to get over her guilt for losing Costia?

 She began to turn away from me, shadowing her face from me. Reflexively, I reached out for her hand, “Don’t you dare walk away.”

 She glanced at me through her peripheral vision, hesitating in the corridor.

 “Whatever it is you’re going through, I am here to go through it with you. Call me cliché or cheesy, I don’t care. I am not the type of person to stand and watch from the side-lines while you carry the weight of your past alone. I am not somebody you can just block out.”

 Her shoulders trembled, slightly. Despite the fact she remained more or less resolute, I could see her falter. Maybe that’s why she couldn’t bear to meet my eye; she couldn’t stand the thought of showing me her vulnerability. I could relate to it.

 Lexa still felt conflicted in being with me; I knew she did. She was still afraid she might lose me because of her decisions – whether it be through an act of vengeance from Nia, or whether it be due to me simply walking away.

 “I’ve told you before, I am with you, Lexa. I am with _all_ of you. Just… talk to me. Please.”

 Gently, I stepped behind her, resting both hands on her hips. She tilted her head back, slightly. My hands crept to her stomach, pulling her back against my chest, but I kept silent from then. She would speak when she was ready.

 Her tone was conflicted when she finally parted her lips, “I question whether I did the right thing when I chose not to have Nia killed back then. When my house got broken into, I knew then I could hardly let her live. If I’d have lost you that night, how could I have ever forgiven myself?”

 I didn’t have an answer for her. In a way, I understood her perspective. She wanted to get rid of the problem before it caused any more damage.

 She turned in my arms, a little drawn, “Clarke, I don’t know if you’ll hate me for making this decision, but when I weigh it all up, the answer is simple. I end her.”

 “You really believe that?”

 Lexa paused, considering this, “I think so. If I don’t, she will persist.”

 “But, what about when she’s dead? Won’t somebody want to get their revenge on you and so forth?”

 “Maybe. But, as it stands, the one person who has the greatest attachment to her is her son. Yet, he has turned against her.”

 “Would he still be on your side if you kill her?” I asked, “Or will he be another body to add to the pile?”

 “I don’t know. Truthfully. All I know is I cannot entertain the thought of Nia taking anything else away from me.” She exhaled, her fingers resting on my forearms.

 “You said… in your letter, you said that you’d done something to her. Which was the reason why she wanted to hurt you in the first place…”

 Lexa inclined her head, “Yes. I almost ruined her. When I first developed my businesses, I targeted people she had dealings with. That way, I would have less competition. She was my biggest threat initially and she fought dirty, trying to tarnish my name. Hence why I went for her associates.” She took a small breath, “She made some poor decisions and got into a great deal of debt trying to fight her way back to the top. She threatened to kill me if I didn’t merge with her and give her a percentage of all profits.”

 “And, of course, you said no.” I offered.

 “I wasn’t scared of her. Why would I be? She was nothing to me. But, she exacted her revenge on me by…”

 Murdering her girlfriend.

 I listened to Lexa recount the history, almost _too_ calmly. As though she couldn’t bear to attach any feeling to her words lest she lose her nerve.

 “I didn’t want to retaliate – well, I _wanted_ to.” She corrected, “But, it wouldn’t have achieved anything. Acting out of rage and anger leaves room for mistakes and I couldn’t afford to make any. She still had some influence. Her son, Roan, has understated power and intelligence. He would have been more likely to destroy everything of mine should I kill her. I was still new back then. Vulnerable at times. I wasn’t afraid of either of them, but I could foresee the damage if I responded rashly.”

 “And now that Roan works for you, the collateral damage risk is significantly lower.”

 “Exactly.” She nodded, “That, and I have more experience than I did then. If she intends to strike again, there is no telling who would get hurt. I have a responsibility to my team. They are like family to me. And you. The thought of losing you is unbearable.”  

 It made more sense to me. This wasn’t an easy decision for her. There were complications that could arise regardless of what she chose to do. I couldn’t even begin to comprehend what it was like for her to be faced with this decision. Surely, she didn’t expect for her life to turn out this way. But, she took it all in her controlled stride, as she did with everything.

 Her eyes flickered from mine in thought, just for a second, “But, if I make this choice, will I lose you anyway?”

 I stared at her, hardly able to find the words.

 “Would you still look at me the same? Could you still touch me, knowing I have gone against everything you stand for – preserving life?” There was a clinical undertone to her words, and I knew it wasn’t out of pure apathy. It was because she was afraid to hear the answer.

 I couldn’t speak for a moment. She waited, patiently. As she always did.

 “Lexa… I may be a self-righteous asshole 70 percent of the time. But, I am not so self-righteous that I believe I could put myself in your shoes and know exactly how I would react or even how I would feel. All I know is that I care about you, probably more than I’ve ever cared about anybody, and whatever choice you make… that’s not going to change.”

 That was when I saw the hairline crack. She breathed in just a little too quickly, her pulse throbbing that tiny bit faster.

 “You mean that.” She said, softly.

 “Yes.”

 I saved her the trouble of finding something to say in return and leaned forwards, pressing my mouth to hers, my hand sliding to her neck.

 It was only when Octavia rounded the corner and complained loudly that she couldn’t access the bathroom that I broke away from Lexa.

 “You’re causing an obstruction.” She muttered, squeezing past me, “Excuse you.”

 I managed to shoot her a fiery glare before she disappeared into the bathroom with a sweet smile.

 “I ought to go.” Lexa sighed, pulling out her phone to contact her driver, “I need to be up early tomorrow.”

 “Will I see you soon?” I asked.

 She brushed my elbow carefully, “Yes. Now, I should get out of these clothes before I make a poor reputation for myself.”

 I ushered her into the bedroom, feigning offense, “How rude. What are you trying to say about my clothes?”

 “Oh, just that I look better without them on.”

 “If you step outside naked, then you’ll definitely make a reputation for yourself alright.”

 She sent me a sly smirk, wriggling out of my hoody, “Remind me to try it some time.”

 Oh, I definitely would.

 

  

 

 

  

 


	21. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for your comments. It is greatly appreciated. I've had a brief period of lacking motivation due to business with work. However, the motivation has returned in full form. 
> 
> Enjoy
> 
> xox

.::. _L_ .::.

 I was tired.

 My body was used to running on less sleep that most others; I’d always despised wasting time. But, this time, I could feel my limbs hanging like strips of lead by my sides.

 It had been a long week.

 I’d had a number of items on my to-do list to deal with, and that was excluding the recent regurgitation of Nia and her damn need to settle our score. Amongst that and handling the aftermath of Cage’s stupidity, I’d found myself with very little time to do much else. Ordinarily, I might not have minded. However, I knew that things had been a little strained between Clarke and me over the past few weeks. Even though we had shared some exceptional experiences, the tug in my stomach reminded me I hadn’t seen her, let alone touched her, throughout the entire week.

 She’d avoided hounding me about my safety, although I knew she worried. She seemed relatively content with my assurances that I would let her know if anything about the situation changed.

 Besides, she’d been busy herself. She had been attending medical conferences and training sessions as well as helping her mother out with the whole pharmaceutical dilemma.

 “Have you made a decision yet?”

 I raised my head, glancing over to Indra as she occupied my office doorway.

 She never showed me any disrespect, even though I knew she didn’t always agree with my manner of working. But, this was one of the occasions where she made no attempt to conceal her displeasure at my lack of proactivity.

 “Yes.” I pushed the lid of my laptop down and met Indra’s eyes directly, “I’m going to meet with Nia.”

 She took a wide step forwards, her face contorting into one of disbelief, “Surely not.”

 I inclined my head, pressing my fingertips together lightly, “I have a proposition for her.”

 “Tell me your proposition winds up with her dead.”

 I bypassed the venom in her tone and responded, “That is one possible outcome if she does not accept my conditions.”

 I could see Indra desperately trying to ground herself, but she was evidently fighting a losing battle with her discipline, “And what are your conditions?”

 “I can set her up with a small but stable business out of state with enough scope to expand her profits elsewhere.” I held up a hand to stop Indra from offering her opinions, “I know the chances are slim of her accepting it. But, any other scenario is impossible.”

 “ _Impossible_?” Indra repeated, “What is so impossible about ending her? If she wanted to settle for second-best, she would’ve skipped town long before now and you know it.”

 I forced myself not to react to Indra’s anger, but it seemed she wasn’t finished.

 “It’s not just money she wants. It’s you! She wants you dead. If you don’t stick her first, it’ll be your blood.”

 I inclined my head, “She has agreed to meet me. Tomorrow.”

 Indra stared at me, ferociously. There were many words just sitting on her tongue, waiting to be spoken. If she wanted to tell me how wrong she thought I was, I wouldn’t stop her. Yet, she knew better than that.

 “And how do you plan on stopping her from double-crossing you right there and then?”

  Indra was wise to opt for a more diplomatic question, but I still studied her for long enough to make her uncomfortable.

 “I know you’re capable. I’m not saying you can’t handle yourself. But, is the risk really that worth it?”

 Indra asked valid questions. She relied on logic and reason and I valued that about her.

 “I’ve considered the options. This one offers the least risk.” I paused, thinking about the conversation I’d had with Clarke, “I know that killing her now would put an immediate end to her threats. But, that would cause us future problems with others. Roan, for one.”

 Indra’s lips pulled back over her teeth, “Is he even necessary? Would it matter if you got rid of him, too?”

 The muscles in my jaw clench ever so slightly.

 “And then who else would I have to dispose of? When does it end?” I shook my head, “Allies are of more use to me than corpses.”

 “And you are of more use to us alive than you are as a corpse.” She took a step back from me, “I will not press this any further. You know my thoughts, but if this is the path you decide to take… I will take it with you.”

 I inclined my head, “Thank you, Indra.”

 “On the condition you do not meet her alone.”

 “I may be taking a risk, Indra. But, I am not stupid. She wouldn’t dream of coming alone, and I am certain she will be preparing for a possible outcome which would involve killing me. No, the meeting will be held at Polis. I have suggested that the police have somewhat of a presence outside the club tomorrow evening. That should appease both us and her.”

 Indra seemed highly doubtful of my assurances, but I couldn’t hold that against her. I was conducting myself far more confidently than I felt.

 The truth was, I wanted nothing more to watch Nia bleed. However, Clarke was right. When would the rivalry end?

 This time, I was truly searching for peace.

 

…

 

 “You’ll forgive me if I don’t accept a drink.” Nia’s gaze was hooked on mine, much like a snake observing its prey, “Can’t be too careful.”

 “I won’t be offended.” I angled my head towards Niko, nodding my head for him to begin the search, “We can’t be too careful, either.”

 She stood stiff as Niko lead an extensive search on her and each of her meatheads, without breaking from me for one moment.

 “Surely you will allow my man to keep a hold of _something_. We are in your territory here. We need safety assurances.”

 “Your men are your safety assurances. We do not have guns and neither will you.” I watched Niko retrieve a handgun from a reluctant brute, “You can have them back once we have closed.”

 Nia’s lips tightened over her teeth, emphasising the gaunt cut of her cheekbones. She ought to have been more careful about her appearance; I had always been very good at noticing vulnerability. The hollow of her eyes was difficult to see in the dark, but as we stepped out of the private lobby and into one of my reserved rooms, the dim light showed me her truth. She was exhausted; stressed. Of course, she was worn down with her growing debt and the tension with her son.

 But, I would make no mistake that these flaws could make her more dangerous than ever. If she no longer had anything to lose, that would put me in a particularly precarious position.

 “You may keep one man with you.” Niko informed her, “The rest of us will wait outside the door.”

 Nia stopped herself from snarling, “And what about you?” She directed the question at me.

 I looked to Indra, who had barely left more than three inches between our shoulders, and she inclined her head.

 It was transpiring about as smoothly as I could’ve hoped it to, but there was still an underlying mistrust between us. The sort that left me with a venomous taste in the back of my throat. I imagined that wasn’t likely to fade throughout the course of our meeting. And neither was the arctic fire that blazed behind Nia’s stare.

 “So, I’m assuming you haven’t brought me here just to sit and look at me across the table.” She was growing unsettled by my silence, despite the fact she tried to conceal it.

 I waited until each of us were seated before I finally responded, “This feud between us must come to an end.”

 “You know what I want, Lexa. Give me a share in your company and you will find an ally in me.”

 Nia was the last person on earth I wanted as an ally.

 “I cannot meet your request directly, but I do have an offer for you.” I retrieved a small collection of papers and pushed them across the table to her, “I have constructed this with the help of my lawyer and I would be happy for you to take it to your own lawyer for processing.”

 Nia scanned through the text carefully, her face impassive as she absorbed the information. Eventually, she raised her head and met my gaze directly, “You want me to leave the district completely and take the ruins of this abandoned project of yours without sufficient payment? Do I look stupid to you, Lexa?”

 I chose not to answer that.

 “Your magical solution to our problem is to brush over absolutely every detail and exile me?” She was already on her feet, fingertips pressed against the hard wood of the table.

 “I do not feel we would work well together. Frankly, I cannot trust you to manage any operations in my organisation. I understand my part in making business difficult for you, Nia. But, I think you will understand why I do not feel I owe you anything more than what I have stipulated in my offer.” I made no attempt to shift out of my seat, or raise my voice. If Nia wished to behave like a child, I wouldn’t stop her. But, I certainly wouldn’t mimic her.

 “You must think I’m as thick as shit! This offer is _nothing_. You underestimate my influence in this city. I was hoping for a reasonable agreement from you so I didn’t have to resort to making rash decisions, but you’re leaving me little choice.”

 I could feel Indra’s igniting fury fuel her muscles beside me.

 “What rash decisions did you have in mind?” I asked, coolly.

 Nia considered this, stopping herself short, and resumed her seat opposite me, “You started this. It was you who betrayed my trust to start off with. Now, you treat me like dirt?”

 “I could never betray something that didn’t exist. You were planning to overturn my businesses since the moment I set foot here. You tried to groom me and exploit my naivety. When I discovered you never wanted me in the picture, I viewed you as a competitor and treated you as such. I would remind you that you have given me no reason to be courteous towards you since. If you truly wish to rebuild your career, you should consider my offer more carefully.”

 “And if I don’t?” Nia studied me harshly, waiting for me to make a threat.

 “Your fate does not concern me beyond what I have offered you.” I knew she was searching for any reason at all to strike, and I wanted to avoid retaliation at all costs, “If you do not take this offer, how else do you intend to rebuild?”

 Nia didn’t appreciate such a direct question. I could tell by the way her wrinkles sharpened at the corners of her eyes.

 “I have enough contacts who could give me deals on a much larger scale than the one you’re offering me right now.”

 I called her bluff, reaching over to take the papers back from in front of her, “Then I suggest you seek them out instead.”

 “Why would I? When I know I could live much more comfortably running a prestigious club such as Polis and your other renowned establishments…”

 She spoke with feigned surety, a small smirk tugging subtly at one side of her mouth. She was goading me purposefully. I wasn’t threatened by it; if she thought for a moment I wasn’t in control of myself, she would pounce.

 “So, are you going to let me walk away without taking your pathetic offer?”

 “I can offer you an alternative.” I allowed her a moment to reengage her interest before continuing, “I can find somebody willing to take your failing business off you and reimburse you with a lump sum. Enough to pay off your debts and provide you with enough to start again elsewhere.”

 She glared at me, hard, “Oh? And who exactly might that be?”

 “Your son.”

 Nia laughed, without humour, “Liar.”

 “I can have him brought in here if you wish to make arrangements with him.”

 “You’re lying.” She maintained.

 I turned to Indra, giving her a nod. She pulled out her phone and tapped at the screen for a few seconds before sliding it back into her pocket, “He’ll be here in a minute.”

 “Is he travelling in a spaceship?” Nia muttered.

 I didn’t bother to inform her that Roan had been in the building the entire time; she would draw that conclusion on her own.

 The door opened and Roan strode into the room, barely making eye contact with his mother as he joined the rest of us at the table.

 “Would you like to explain to me what the hell you’re doing?” Nia hissed.

 “I’ve come to make an offer for you.” He produced a thin folder and handed it over to his mother, “Think about it.”

 She restrained herself well and avoided snatching the papers from him, although I could see the faint tremor in her wrists. She was angry. Backed into a corner, perhaps. Like a hungry tigress.

 She didn’t even open the folder and instead pressed her hands palm-down to the table, “Don’t condescend me, Roan. I used to change your nappies as a child.”

 “Let’s not get into what you did or did not do for me as a child. Instead, take a look at my offer.” Roan did not rise to his mother’s dismissive goading and kept his eyes trained calmly on hers. Beneath his exterior, he was angry. I could tell by the way his arms flexed as he rested his fingertips together. Delving into the depths of Nia’s turbulent relationship with her son wasn’t a route I was inclined to take.

 As it transpired, I didn’t have to. Nia had rounded on me, shoving away Roan’s papers as though the offer wasn’t worth the paper it was printed on, “You planned this. You’ve clearly been grooming him. How very underhanded of you.” She managed a bitter laugh, “I didn’t want to have to do this, Lexa.”

  _Do what?_

 She sighed and placed her phone on the table surface, “I want at least 50% of your shares.”

 I cocked an eyebrow.

 “And I think you’ll sign these before this meeting is over.” She revealed what I presumed to be her own ‘offer’ and presented it to me, a smug smile turning up the corners of her lips – but to me, it just looked bitter.

 I was curious to know why.

 I didn’t have to ask, though. She was already preparing to tell me.

 “I thought you would have learned from past mistakes, but it’s quite obvious you haven’t. How many more of your lovers do I have to dispose of before you realise you’ll never win?”

 She was making it hard for me to let her breathe.

 “You won’t touch her.” I stated.

 “ _I_ won’t. I hate getting my hands dirty.” She dialled a number from her phone, placing it on loud speaker.

 A woman’s voice answered.

 “Tell me what you can see from where you’re standing.” Nia instructed.

 “ _I can see the ER reception desk. There are a few nurses. Some questionable looking injuries. A puddle of vomit… a pretty blonde doctor._ ”

 I felt my chest tighten, a thousand thoughts plaguing my head.

 “Excellent.” Nia smiled, “Can you get an appointment with her? If you don’t hear back from me in ten minutes, you can assume there’s no need for her to stay alive.”

 “ _Understood_.”

 Indra was on her feet before I had even shifted my chair, her back hunched over the table as she fixed her irate glare on Nia, “You _dare_ to threaten–”

 “–Oh, keep her on a leash, Lexa. I thought you were supposed to train them to have manners.”

 I couldn’t see any other outcome to this except Nia’s blood pooling at my feet.

 Whether this was all an elaborate bluff or not didn’t matter. She had crossed the line. Again.

 “Are you going to sign the document?” Nia prompted.

 “Let me end this bitch.” Indra spat.

 “You heard her.” Nia’s henchman positioned himself opposite Indra, the table the only thing keeping them apart, “If anything happens to Nia, your little piece is dead. And so are you.”

 “I will cut off your little prick before you even had time to piss yourself.” Indra turned to me, seconds away from snapping somebody’s neck, “My loyalty is to you and this company, ma’am. I cannot watch you give it all up for this _snake_.”

 I had kept silent, hoping for an epiphany or divine inspiration to prompt me how to proceed. I knew I had people stationed at the ER who had their eyes on Clarke. I could get Indra to contact them while I attempted to alert Clarke.

 “Oh, and before you get any smart ideas on how to get around this… if one of you even thinks of trying to contact Clarke, I will give the order immediately.”

 “Don’t you think you’re being a bit dramatic, mother?” Roan spoke up, watching Nia with calculated eyes.

 “Boy, don’t think for one moment I won’t add you to the body count if you take Lexa’s side over mine. In fact… if you want to see dramatic, why don’t we get my girl on the line right now? If anything goes amiss on this end, she will hear every sound. I’m sure she won’t mind making the doctor’s death slow.”

 Roan said nothing to this. I could see the quiet confirmation in his stare; he may as well have been dead to Nia for the thought she spared him.

 I could hear people raising their voices, but I wasn’t listening.

 “Silence.” I said, quietly.

 I could feel everybody’s eyes on me.

 “I will sign the papers.” I retrieved a pen and poised it over the dotted line, barely even reading the contents. It didn’t matter. My club? Money? It meant nothing if I didn’t have Clarke. Even though we would outnumber Nia, I couldn’t consider the option of losing anybody. Not after nearly losing Gustus.

 “No.” Indra slammed a hand on the table, “That is not an option. I refuse to work for _her_.”

 I looked at her, “Trust me, Indra.”

 I focused on the paper, completing a signature with ease, “Call it off.” I demanded, “Now.”

 Nia just laughed, reaching forwards and picking up the paper, “Do I look stupid to you? I’ll need to compare your signature to a legitimate document.”

 My finger twitched, “You can compare after you’ve called it off, Nia.”

 She shook her head, “I’m not the one who’s been wasting time. You have three minutes to find me a document so I can verify the signature. I suggest you get to it. Oh, do you have a spare phone charger? I forgot to charge it before I came over… the battery will probably run out any minute now.”

 I felt my eyes glaze over with fury.

 I barely opened my mouth before Roan was on his feet, punching Nia’s henchman square in the temple. He stumbled back a few steps, caught off-guard.

 “What the fuck–” He barely had time to finish his exclamation before Roan was directing another swift punch to his jaw.

 “What do you think you’re doing, idiot?” Nia pushed back from the table to avoid getting caught in the crossfire, keeping a tight hold on the paper.

 I turned to Indra, inclining my head, “Restrain her.”

 “Gladly.”

 She pushed herself across the table-top, sliding smoothly towards Nia and tackling her to the floor.

 Roan took an uppercut to the chin, falling back against the wall and I stepped in before the henchman could land another strike. I swept his leg from the front, cleanly. He tried to keep his balance, but I dropped my elbow down to his spine, hearing the thump as he hit the ground.

 I delivered a powerful kick to his head, knowing it would probably keep him unconscious for long enough to deal with the mess at hand.

 Nia was fighting furiously against Indra. It was a futile attempt. I had never seen Indra lose a fight.

 “Call it off.” I was standing over her, my foot resting over her shins, ready to snap them if I had to.

 She shook her head, defiantly.

 Roan picked up the phone and selected the number from her call log. He looked at me for a split second, “I cannot allow my mother to have any sort of power over me, Lexa. I’m doing this under the assumption you will uphold our agreement.”

 I inclined my head, “You have my word.”

 He pressed the phone to his ear and nodded, “It’s Roan. The papers have been signed. You can abort.”

 His brow furrowed after a moment, “I’m her son. You know me. She is dealing with the logistics and asked me to call you… what? I said abort! I can’t put her on the phone right now. She’s occupied… Abort, for god’s sake.”

Roan hesitated and moved closer to his mother, crouching down to her level, “Apparently she needs your confirmation to abort.”

Nia bit down hard on Indra’s arm and wrenched her jaw free of her hold, “Get off me, bitch.”

 Indra was quick to readjust her hold, her hands either side of Nia’s head, “You call it off, or I snap your neck.”

 As if to highlight her point, Indra twisted Nia’s head to one side, just enough to prompt a wince.

 “Alright! Fine!”

 Roan carefully held the phone out to Nia and she spared him a contemptuous glare before opening her mouth, “Do it. Kill her.”

 “ _Confirmed_.”

 I could hear the quiet, tinny voice through the speaker and my heart juddered painfully against my ribs.

 He pulled the phone away as if she’d just breathed fire on it and stared at the screen as the call ended.  Angrily, he threw the phone across the room, hearing it smash.

 “Don’t kill her, Indra.” He held up a hand, “Not yet. Please.”

 “I don’t answer to you.” She didn’t bite, but the expression on her face seemed resigned. She knew what I would say before I said it.

 “I have to go. Keep her alive and put her in holding. I trust you to take charge while I’m gone.”

 Indra nodded and I met Nia’s gaze, wanting nothing more than to slap her across the face.

 But, that could save.

 I made no further attempt to engage and strode out of the room, heading straight for the emergency exit, the adrenaline surging through my muscles.

 “Is everything okay?” Niko chased after me, “Where are you going?”

 “Contain Nia’s men. Report to Indra.” I didn’t slow down, but I knew he’d heard me.

  For now, all I could think about was Clarke.

 

.::. _C_ .::.

 

 It was havoc. I’d barely had a moment to breathe all shift. I was already working on overtime as it was, but I supposed that was just a given for a Saturday night. Not to mention we were a senior (asshole) doctor down. I sighed and ducked out of my office, heading towards the Blue Bay to finish my last rounds.

 “Oh, excuse me, doctor!”

 I felt a tap on my shoulder and stopped in my purposeful trek to see a young woman smiling pleasantly at me, “Can I help?”

  _Please say no, please say no._

 “Actually, can I have a quick word?”

  _Nope. Piss off._

 “I’m afraid I’m quite caught up at the moment. Perhaps I can direct you to the nurses’ station.” I avoided phrasing it like a question, because then she might’ve said no.

 She reached for my elbow, “Well, that’s the thing.” She pulled me to one side, “It’s Dr Griffin, right?”

  _I made a mental note to get my name changed._

 “Right.”

  I prayed to whatever god might’ve been listening that she was after my mother and not me.

 “Well, to be honest, it’s not really medical related.” She bit her lip, lightly, “It’s about your… well, it’s to do with Lexa.”

 I exhaled, “I see. Is it urgent? Only, I have some very pressing cases to deal with at the moment. Can it wait?”

 She shook her head, “I think she could be in danger.”

 I had been through enough bullshit as of late to know not to take unfamiliar characters at face-value. Especially the charming ones. All of this felt tangibly off to me.

 I indicated to a side room and smiled, “If you could just wait for me in that room there, I’ll be with you in a second.” I dashed away from her line of sight before she could touch my elbow again. I side-stepped into an unoccupied assessment room and shut the door, retrieving my phone from my pocket. I tried to get through to Lexa as quickly as I could.

 No answer.

 Fuck.

 I tried Indra.

 No answer.

 Jesus, fuck.

 There was a knock at the door.

  _Why?! Go away._

 Before I could respond, the door opened and the young woman stepped into the room, closing the door behind her.

 “Dr Griffin, I’m sorry. I know you’re busy, but I really need to talk to you. I’m scared.”

 She didn’t _look_ scared. In fact, she looked quite comfortable being in such close proximity to me.

 I fell back a step, knowing I would end up spouting some shit out my mouth because that’s what I usually did in times of stress.

 Internally, I slapped myself. Twice.

 Doctor mode. Come on.

 “Okay, can you tell me what the problem is?” I asked, trying to keep it professional. (Another panic mode setting of mine).

 Her eyes lowered to the personal alarm clipped on my lanyard.

 I could feel my phone vibrating against my thigh, and I reached for it, “Sorry, this could be her now.”

 The young woman moved towards me, “Don’t answer it.”

 I raised my eyebrows, “No? Why not?”

 “They will be listening on the other end.”

 “Who will be?” I asked, carefully lifting the phone upwards.

 “Well…” She sighed, “I don’t know.”

 I tilted my head to one side, trying to regulate my heart rate, “Well, can you tell me how you know Lexa is in danger?”

 “Not really. I didn’t expect to be answering all these questions so I hadn’t made that part up yet.” She took a rapid step forwards, knocking my phone out of my grasp and shoving me against the wall forcefully.

 I groaned, the wind bursting from my chest, leaving my breathless. She shoved her forearm against my throat, applying heavy pressure to my windpipe. She fumbled about her coat pocket and pulled out a small blade, “Sorry about this. Just following orders and things. You know how it is.”

 The corners of my vision throbbed with black, my blood frantically trying to pass through my jugular. I was getting light-headed. Very fast.

 I wrapped my hands around her arm, trying to free my throat. She was too strong. The blade was cold against my stomach – I could feel it even through my scrubs.

 But, if being with Lexa had taught me anything, it was how to survive.

 I brought my knee upwards, kneeing her straight in the lady balls.

 It wasn’t enough.

 I scrambled for my alarm and pulled it, barely hearing the piercing screech it emitted.

 I was losing consciousness.

 With a final burst of energy, I grabbed hold of her hand as it clutched the knife and prised her thumb off the handle.

 I knew well enough that you couldn’t physically hold onto something if you couldn’t use your thumb. And I’d just dislocated hers. It was just the reverse act of popping bones back into place – and that was something I rather excelled in. The knife fell to the floor and I seized the moment, manoeuvring one hand around her forearm to dig my fingers into her eyes.

 Again, that was probably a panic thing, but it seemed to be working.  

 She had no choice but to fall back a step, her arm relaxing on my throat. I took several deep breaths of air, letting it fill up my lungs, almost forgetting she was still trying to kill me.

 Once my vision had more or less returned, I flung my arm out in front of me and punched her hard in the nose. It was clumsy, and I had actually been aiming for her jaw or something, but the result was still favourable.

 There wasn’t much more she could do at that point now the security team and a couple of nurses had wrenched open the door.

 I just pointed to the woman who was clutching a handful of blood pouring out of her nose, and leaned heavily against the examination bed, “She… knife.” I managed.

 The nurses bustled around me while the security officers dealt with the charming little assassin.

 I let them usher me out of the room towards a private bed space so they could take my vitals and check me over for any other injuries.

 “I’m fine.” I mumbled.

 “We’ll be the judges of that.”

 I waited until they’d done before I pushed myself upright.

 “Sats 91. Heart rate 117. BP is normal. We’ll just give you a bit of oxygen.”

 They connected me up to the oxygen mask and measured my vitals for a few moments.

 “Okay, we’re at 97. Heart rate is down to 94.”

 I nodded, pushing myself upright and taking off the mask, “97 is good. Even for me. Smoker.” I grinned, “And talking of which, I’m gagging for a cigarette. But, I should finish my rounds first. I’m already late.”

 “Dr Griffin.” The nurses’ matron glanced me up and down with disapproval, “You’ve… you’ve just been assaulted. I think the doctor taking over from you can finish your rounds.”

 “I’ll be alright, Janet. Don’t worry.”

Janet looked at me sharply over the top of her spectacles, “Why do doctors always make the _worst_ patients?”

 “None taken.” I smiled, wryly.

 One of the support workers knocked on the door and handed me my phone, “It was still in the assessment room. I think it’s ringing.”

 “Thanks.” My hands trembled ever so slightly as I answered Indra’s call, “Hello, everything okay?”

 “ _No, somebody is trying to kill you._ ”

 Indra was never one for softening the blow or beating about bushes of any description.

 “No shit. Is Lexa okay?”

 “ _Yes, she’s on her way. Are you safe?_ ”

 “Yeah. I’ll call you later.”

 I hung up, avoiding rolling my eyes.

 Janet dismissed the other staff and took a seat by the bed, still looking at me with that matronly stare, “How are you feeling?”

 “Yeah. I’m okay.”

 “I’ll do an incident form and the security team will contact the police. Once you’re feeling better, you need to go home. The police can question you later. You need rest.”

 I nodded, “Thanks, Jan.”

 “What happened?”

 “I don’t remember properly.” I lied, “I just remember her following me in here. Next thing I knew, she was strangling me against the wall and then she pulled a knife. Maybe it’s one for the psych team to solve.”

 “I think we’ll leave the solving to the police.”

 For a moment, she looked at me and I felt sick. Why was she still here?

 I shifted, suddenly questioning whether she was in on it, too.

 Concern lined her features – an expression I’d rarely seen on a matron. Especially Janet.

 But, then it was gone and she reverted to her usual stern demeanour, “Right then, doc. I think you should stay here for a bit of further assessment. And…” She regarded my scrubs, “… you can get cleaned up. You have bodily fluids all down you.”

 “Ah, yeah. Surgery.” I laughed, uneasily.

  _Snap the fuck out of it, Clarke._

 Janet stood up and helped me to my feet, “I know you want to go home, but I’d feel happier if you just stuck around for half an hour or so, just so we can be sure you’re not going to go into shock. I’ll get somebody to bring you a change of clothes.”

 I forced a smile, hoping she was going to leave and not decide to finish the job on me.

 But, she didn’t. She gave me a smile and adjusted her glasses before she left. It wasn’t long before a nurse dropped in to hand me a fresh pair of scrubs and a clean white jacket, “Are you feeling okay, Dr Griffin?”

 I nodded, trying to shake the feeling that this wasn’t over.

 I just wanted to go home.

 I felt fine.

 Ish.

 “Okay, well, get yourself sorted and then I’m sure you can head home.”

 Once she’d left, I pulled the curtains over the window and took a steadying breath, getting rid of the stained scrubs I had been wearing. It wasn’t like I was afraid. I wasn’t even really thinking about the attack. It was the fact that everybody I came in contact with could have been a killer. How many more people would be sent to try and kill me?

 The door clicked. I was halfway through pulling on my trousers.

 The door creaked open. I froze.

 If this was my next attacker, I was going to have to fight them off half-naked. Excellent.

 The closest thing I could use as a weapon was the flower vase on my bedside table.

 “Clarke?”

 My breath escaped me in a gush of relief.

 Pulling back the curtain hurriedly, no longer caring about my half-dressed state, I saw Lexa standing before me. Before I could move to receive her first, she took a lengthy step forwards into my bed space, her strong arms slipping securely around my waist. She said nothing, but pulled me against her tightly, burying her face into my neck.

 “You’re here.” My throat was dry and I was shaking. Even though I had been gauged for a fight, the moment she touched me, I felt unsteady.

 Then, I felt the heat of her cheeks against mine, her fingers waveringly pulling my body closer to hers.

 That was when I realised.

 It wasn’t me trembling. It was Lexa.

 This time, I was holding her. The way she usually held me.

 I slid my hand behind her neck, running my fingers gently through her hair.

 “It’s okay.” I found myself speaking softly against the side of her head.

 After a few seconds had passed, she took a shaky breath inwards, “No, Clarke. It’s isn’t.”

 She carefully lifted her forehead from my shoulder and I saw the exhaustion lining her features; the worry. The whites of her eyes had reddened, making her green gaze seem that much paler. Piercing, almost. But, they were watery and her jaw was slack.

 “What do you mean?”

 She tilted her head backwards, her eyes flickering to the ceiling.

 “This.” She said, finally, “The nurse told me what happened. You could have been killed… because of me. Not for the first time, either.”

 I took a step back, my arms dropping to my side, “It’s not like you were the one who ordered the hit on me. It’s not your fault.”

 But, her voice was strangely even to say she looked seconds away from tearing herself into two separate parts, “Yes, Clarke. It is. I have painted a target on your back and it will remain there until…”

 “Until what?”

 I had spent the last several days barely having any contact with Lexa. She had been weighed down with work (and death threats) and I had been busy sorting out my own routine (and death threats too, apparently). She’d hardly even kept me updated with how things had been panning out with Nia. But, not very well, it seemed… The last time we’d seen each other, following Cage’s home invasion, we hadn’t even had a single second to get back to any kind of normality with each other.

 I didn’t really know what normality was with her. Sure, we’d had a full day of mind-blowing sex. But, that wasn’t all we were.

 And now? She was already trying to nobly sacrifice our relationship for my goddamn safety. She didn’t even need to finish her sentence. It was obvious what she was implying.

 And I was _so_ fucking over it.

 “Go on. Say it. Tell me again how you can’t keep putting me in danger. How you can’t keep risking my life for the sake of your business.” I didn’t raise my voice. Yet, at least.

 Lexa’s lips parted, her gaze falling back to mine.

 “I know the risk I’m taking when I say I want to be with you. Shit, if I wasn’t aware of it by now, I’d be asking my mother to check out my brain function.” Running a hand through my hair in wild frustration, I found the words continuing to pour out of my mouth, “You know the worst part of all this? It’s that I never know when you’re next going to try and push me away. You go dark for days, and then boom! Out of the blue… ‘Oh, sorry, Clarke. Someone wants to kill you. My bad. Guess we should break up.’ So, if that’s what you’re here to say, just fucking say it already.”

  _Now_ my voice was raised.

 Something passed over her eyes, but I couldn’t tell what it was. I never could. Despite the fact she was probably feeling guilt, fear, remorse, relief and seven thousand other emotions right now, I _still_ couldn’t read her.

 “How…” Her throat was dry. Hoarse. “How can you still want this after… after everything I’ve put you through?”

 “Because I’m a stubborn asshole!”

It wasn’t exactly what I’d intended to say. It was still the truth, but possibly an angrier version of it than I’d really meant.

 She blinked, surprised.

 “So…” I shrugged, still pissy, “Yeah. Now, just… just take me home and hold me. Can you do that? Or do you think I might get sniped on the way?”

 Clearly, she didn’t appreciate my humour in the moment, but she didn’t protest either.

 Taking a deep breath, she gave me a subtle once-over, “I wouldn’t normally say this, but… perhaps you should put a t-shirt on first.”

 Oh.

 I inwardly commended her for keeping focused on the conversation – or at least, for keeping focused on me bollocking her to high heaven.

 Moodily, I pulled my top on and eased into my white jacket, draping my stethoscope around my neck. Bagging up the dirty scrubs and washing my hands thoroughly, I strode out the room and headed for the nurses station.

 “I’m going home.”

 “Your partner found you okay, then?” Janet looked up from the computer behind the desk and then observed Lexa over the top of her spectacles, answering her own question, “Mm. Okay, just leave that bag there. We’ll sort it.”

 I offered her a small smile, “Thanks, Jan. I’ll see you later.”

 “Will you be okay to drive?”

 “Some might say I’m never okay to drive. But, yes. I’m fine.” I managed a quiet laugh before turning back to Lexa, “But, maybe I’ll come pick my car up tomorrow.”

 I went to grab my stuff from my office, meeting her back at the reception desk. She was almost frozen in place, her eyes scanning every person that walked past.

 At least I wasn’t the only one who suspected every moving thing as a potential threat.

 As much as I wanted all of this to just go away, I knew it wouldn’t. With everything that happened with Cage, I could deal with it. I imagined Lexa could too, because I was involved in that – it was my place of work that was under threat. Not just her. But, this time, I knew I would’ve been careless collateral damage.

 That was why Lexa appeared as though she would never forgive herself for this.

 We drove in quiet, the sound of the radio taking the edge off the tension between us.

 I still didn’t know what she was thinking. I rested my elbow on the inside of the car door, staring out the window as the city lights faded from view once we hit the highway.

 I felt her hand curl around my thigh, her gaze meeting mine for the briefest period before returning to the road.

 It calmed me. So much more than I’d expected. I covered her hand with mine, grazing her knuckles with my fingertips.

 Once she’d pulled into the drive, the electronic gates closing behind us, she switched off the ignition and turned to me. She looked as though she might say something and I waited, patiently.

 Instead, she moved one hand to my face and pulled me towards her, pressing her lips to mine gently. I felt my breath escape my lungs, as it usually did when she was kissing me. Then, all too soon, she broke apart from me, “I don’t know what I’ve done to deserve you, Clarke.”

 I kissed her once more before opening the car door, “I think that’s something we can discuss over a glass of wine.”

 She nodded, slowly, “Yes. I think you might be right.”

 


	22. Chapter 22

.::. _C_ .::.

 Lexa was watching me, carefully. It was a sensation that was all too familiar, but one that left me feeling exposed. Every goddamn time. I wasn’t sure when I’d last opened my mouth to actually say something, rather than just to receive some welcome wine into my pallet. She was awaiting some response, I imagined.

 I mean, she had just told me how she’d met with the person who’d sent her death threats and stared her in the face across a table. Admittedly, that was a ballsy move. The part of the story that got me the most wasn’t the fact she had somehow managed to apprehend Nia and all her meatheads and arranged for them to get shipped off to some out-of-state police holding cell (something I imagined had costed her a pretty penny or two) _whilst_ she was driving to the hospital to come and bail my ass out of a murder-attempt. Which, granted, she was a little late for. But, still. That wasn’t what got me the most.

 “So… you were willing to give your company up… for me.” It felt stupid to say. Surely, that wouldn’t have been the case, “I thought you would have given a false signature or something to buy some time.”

 Lexa pulled her legs up to fold gracefully beneath her on the sofa, her elbow resting on her thigh, “I considered the possibility of it. I won’t say I didn’t.” She ran one finger around the rim of her wine glass, “But, it wasn’t my life that was in immediate danger. It was yours. Yes, I would give my life for my business, for the people who run it with me. But, the thought of risking yours…”

 I watched her mouth move, the soft crackling of the fire almost drowning out her words.

 “It’s unthinkable.”

 I reached forwards and took her glass in my fingertips, placing both our drinks down on the mahogany coffee table, “So… is this you saying you kinda like me?” I couldn’t help but smirk, crawling along the cushions towards her.

 Lexa’s eyes widened marginally, her lips parting as I slid one hand across her thigh.

 “It’s okay… you can admit it.” I murmured, lowering my knees either side of her hips so I was straddling her lap, “I won’t tell.”

 Automatically, a breath heaved her chest, both her hands moving to receive my waist, “Clarke…”

 It got me. _Every_ fucking time. All she needed to do was breathe my name in that low husk and I was gone. I was hers.

 “I don’t know what I was thinking.” Lexa murmured, her eyes sliding slowly up my body to meet my hungry gaze.

 I cocked my head to one side, carefully running my fingertips down the front of her lacy top, wondering how much longer I could stand to see her clothed.

 I doubted much longer than a couple of minutes. If that.

 “What?” I asked, distractedly.

 She arched her back away from the cushion behind her as I tucked one finger underneath the hem of her top.

 “When I…” She cleared her throat and caught my wrist then, her eyes regaining their focus suddenly, “Clarke…”

 I paused, sensing she wanted to get something off her chest.

 “I don’t want you to think that this is expendable to me.”

 “What?”

 “Our relationship.” She brought my hand to her face, grazing her lips over the pulse in my wrist, “When I say you’d be safer without me in your life, I’m not trying to hurt you.”

 “I know.” I stilled, letting her wrap one arm around my waist to pull me closer.

 “This… you.” She struggled subtly with herself for a few seconds, “What we have…”

 I waited. I wasn’t going to put words in her mouth and I wasn’t going to rescue her from her own silence, either.

 She seemed unperturbed by the quiet as she searched for the words to say, choosing each one with consideration, “I have been absent, recently. Sometimes I feel I can’t give you everything you deserve. You deserve so much and I cannot always show you what you mean to me.” She took a measured breath, glancing away from me, “I have never felt this way about anybody before. The thought of losing you is so painful that I can barely breathe when it crosses my mind. I’m not intentionally pushing you away. Do you understand?”

 I inclined my head, absorbing every word. It was so rare for her to freely speak of her feelings for me that I almost felt a sense of reverence when she opened her lips.

 “I don’t want to be without you, but it is so difficult for me to knowingly put you in danger because of what I do. I know you know that. I am so thankful that you still want to be with me, regardless of that. But, if it ever changes for you, please don’t stay with me out of duty.”

 “Lexa…” I felt something in my chest lurch. Most likely my heart. For a moment, I found myself almost speechless. She watched me, open and unguarded. Imploring and vulnerable.

  _God_ , it killed me.

 “If my feelings ever change, I will tell you. Your career, your life, isn’t a game. Sometimes, you will be distant or closed off and sometimes you’ll be scared. I accept that. I understand it.” I pressed my hands to her stomach lightly, “I mean, call me cliché or basic, or something. But, you have saved me in so many ways and I have never _ever_ wanted something more… than how much I want this. How much I want you. I…” I managed a hoarse laugh, “These are things I never thought I’d say to anybody, really. Octavia would probably throw up in her mouth if she heard me.”

 Lexa quirked an eyebrow, her eyes dropping to my lips, “Then, it’s a good thing she isn’t here.”

 “Nobody is. Except us.” I felt a flare of heat lick my chest, “And I have waited all week to get you alone.”

 “Oh?”

 “Oh.” I affirmed.

 Aware that I was suddenly walking a tightrope between sincerity and charged sexual tension, I decided to try and balance the two. I took advantage of my position and pressed my lips to her neck, kissing her skin tenderly. I could feel her body tighten under me, her thumbs dragging over my hipbones as I inched down her throat. In one smooth motion, I had dropped to the floor, pushing her knees apart and reaching for the button to her skin-tight leather trousers.

 She was still wearing her boots.

 I groaned in quiet pleasure at the prospect of sliding them off.

 She let me undress her from the floor, raising her hips as I rolled the trousers down her thighs, over her calves…

 Her fingers tangled into my hair, guiding my head between her legs.

 I could feel her muscles flex as I flicked my tongue in the crease of her thigh. I brushed my lips over her, slipping my fingers up her shin, letting them make their own trail to her centre.

 Lexa was letting me handle this one, despite the fact I could feel her itching to grab me hard.

 So, naturally, I couldn’t resist moving slower.

 Teasing.

 When I finally gave her what she wanted, she gave into me completely, sinking back into the cushions as her thighs clenched around my shoulders.

 I raised my head, wiping my lips with the back of my hand, quietly inching back onto the sofa beside her, angling my head to press a lingering kiss to her jaw.

 “Clarke…” She turned to look at me, her cheeks pinched with heat, “I…”

 Once again, it seemed she was speechless. I couldn’t help but smile, darkly. I loved it when she lost the upper hand. I brushed my index finger over her lower lip, edging the tip between her teeth. She bit the bait. Almost literally. Her eyes locked onto mine, her mouth closing softly around my finger.

 “Take me to bed.” I whispered, “I want to lay with you.”

 She quirked an eyebrow, her tongue curling around my finger playfully before she pulled back, “Lay with me? Or _lay_ with me?”

 I rose to my feet, dragging her with me, only mildly aware she was significantly less clothed than me, “Oh, I think that’s something you can figure out on your own.”

 One corner of her lips twitched, “I hope it’s both.”

 

.::. _L_.::.

 

 

 

   It was only when the blinding gratification began to subside that I felt my legs ache. I had seen the faded shadow on Clarke’s throat where she had been choked, and I remembered why everything felt so heavy.

 I could have lost Clarke today. She was hurt again because of me. She would have berated me if she knew I was dwelling on the prospect. Unfortunately, that was who I was. I mulled it all over, my head on the pillow, staring up at the ceiling. She was in the bathroom, washing the events of the evening off her skin, probably trying to forget as much as I was trying to remember.

 I didn’t know why I tortured myself with it over and over. I couldn’t change it, and the conversation Clarke and I had about it all had lifted my thoughts to a degree higher than I thought possible. But, even now, when she was only yards away from me I was still thinking of her. We both kept things to ourselves for the sake of the other. It wasn’t something we could fix just through one conversation, or even through being physically intimate. The effects would remain, and we would both have to deal with it.

 Again.

 “It’s okay, you know.”

 My eyes flickered over to the doorway where Clarke was standing, wrapped up in my dressing gown. The dim glow of the candles by my bedside danced over her skin. I propped myself up, leaning back on my elbows as she padded across to the bed.

 “To think about it.” She slipped onto the mattress next to me, resting her back against the headboard, “I know you’re brooding.”

 I knew I was watching her through a heavy-lidded stare as her scent drifted over me.

 “You always do. And it’s okay.” She unfastened the belt from around her waist so the gown hung over each side of her body, leaving her chest bone and stomach exposed.

 “Is it?”

 She nodded, “Yes. I know you need time to reflect. It’s part of who you are. You think about everything – every side, every perspective. In a way, I’m jealous of that.”

  _Why?_

 She seemed unaware of the smile that touched her lips, but not her eyes.

 “I suppose, for me, I do things and then face the consequences later and I rarely learn from it. You, on the other hand, hate being taken by surprise and therefore try to plan for everything. When you miss something… some small detail… you go over and over and over it in your mind until you feel you’ve learned everything you possibly can from it. Then, that way, you’re ready for whatever happens next.”

 I listened, wondering why I’d never thought of it that way before. Usually, I just believed myself to be an obsessive analyst and nothing more. But, what Clarke said made sense to me. She taught me things about myself that I never thought I’d learn.

 “So… I just want you to know that it’s okay to do that, so long as you don’t let it be _all_ you think about.”

 I lowered my head back down, resting it in her lap. Her hand automatically received me, combing deftly through my hair.

 “I think I’ve always been this way.” I said, at last, “Since I was a child.”

 I felt my heart falter in my chest at the unwanted memories. It was hard to talk about. Hard to _think_ about. Clarke said nothing, but it was enough to know she was touching me; hearing me.

 “When I was left at the children’s home… I had never felt so alone in my life. I quickly got used to it. It meant I could plan for the future, taking only myself into account. I was…”

I recalled the blurs, feeling my pulse throb painfully in my ears.

 “I was one of many unwanted children. I was neglected and sometimes treated harshly, I suppose. I’ve never had to think about anybody else because nobody really thought of me. I don’t think of myself as a victim, because I learned a lot from it. But then, Anya turned up. I hadn’t planned for that. It took me a long time to trust her.”  

 I stopped for a moment to choose what I would say next without delving too deeply into my past.

 “It’s so much harder to plan for you when there’s somebody else in the picture, because they aren’t predictable. They aren’t as constant. It’s out of your control. So, I had to consider every possible outcome… what would happen if she left, what would happen if she turned against me, and what would happen if she used me. Then, if they ever happened, I would be ready. I would be able to adapt. What I hadn’t planned for was her to stay.”

 Clarke trailed her fingernails over my jaw, pulling my hair behind my ear, murmuring a quiet sound of understanding.

 “I always plan for the worst, and so if something happens that I haven’t foreseen, it’s hard for me to deal with it, until I’m certain I have committed it entirely to my subconscious.”

 “Mm.” Clarke paused briefly before speaking, “And what about with me? I know you’ve planned for the worst outcomes, already. But, have you considered a possibility in which _I_ stay with you?”

 “I… I don’t know.” I lifted my head up from her lap and seated myself beside her, “Planning anything with you in mind is near enough impossible. You’re the most unpredictable person I’ve ever met.”

 Clarke found the humour in this, as she so often did, and pulled the dressing gown from her body, tossing it onto the floor.

 My point proved itself as Clarke was now utterly naked. It wasn’t a sight I was unfamiliar with by any means. In fact, it had been a sight filling my vision for the last hour, or so. I just hadn’t expected it. As such, I couldn’t help but feel a warmth prodding at the sides of my mouth.

 “Well, maybe we should make plans.” Clarke moved one hand to sit between my thighs, her thumb running lightly over the skin, “I mean plans that aren’t just about when we are next going to see each other.”

 I felt my breathing stagger to hear the words.

 She was deadly serious about this. It was hard to accept that being with Clarke permanently was a possibility, despite the fact every part of me longed for it. Craved it.

 “Come on, tell me something you’ve always wanted to do, but haven’t done. And I’m not talking about your career.”

 I raised my eyebrows, thinking her demand through carefully. I had done many things I’d wanted to do – but generally speaking, they were all work related. I had never really set myself any leisure goals or ‘bucket lists’. I had seen many places, and met many people. I had found enjoyment in this, but it had all been about networking and improving my skills.

 “Tell me one of yours first.”

 This was new to me. I preferred Clarke to set the precedent.

 “Okay… well, I’ve always wanted to travel. See Europe. France. Italy. Maybe even Great Britain. Experience cultures, sit on top of a mountain and draw everything I see. See the Northern Lights. Get drunk with a group of rowdy Irishmen. Drink wine on the beach. Honestly, there’s a lot I want to do.” She smiled, sheepishly, “I know there’s no way I can do everything I want to. But, I think about my dad and all the days he spent drinking himself to depression, staring at the same four walls every single day. I have his knack for drinking, but I don’t want to become like him.”

 “I’ll take you.” I said, quietly.

 “What?” She blinked and turned to look at me.

 “I’ll take you.” I repeated, “Wherever you want to go.”

 Her teeth rested atop her lower lip, “Really? You would be able to?”

 “I know you probably aren’t aware of this detail, but I’m not starving for cash.” I couldn’t help but breathe out a quiet breath of laughter as she hit my arm, lightly.

 “Wow, really? What, are you like a businesswoman or something? A millionaire?” She rolled her eyes, still smiling.

 “You caught me. I’ve been trying to keep it a secret.”

 “Cat’s outta the bag now.” She smirked, “No, but I mean… would you be able to leave your work just for pleasure?”

 I felt a teasing expression fall over my features, sliding one hand to rest on her stomach, “Clarke… You and I both know I can do whatever I want.” 

 Her eyes lowered to my mouth and she leaned forwards, “Well, it might be useful to take a linguist with me.” She murmured, her hand curling around the side of my neck.

 My eyes fluttered closed as her lips found mine, kissing me with gentle fervour. I hooked her thigh over my hip, my hand cupping her behind, squeezing lightly.

 The moan she breathed into my mouth left me light-headed and I pulled her lower lip between my teeth, rolling her body beneath mine.

 “Haven’t you had your way with me enough this evening?” Clarke was too breathless to manage the playful smirk threatening to shape her mouth.

 She knew I could never have my way with her enough.

 “Why, have _you_ had enough?”

 “Ask me again when I’ve done shaking.”

 

…

 

 

Clarke was sleeping peacefully when I got a phone call from Indra. I envied her ability to fall unconscious at the drop of a hat.

 “Yes?” I whispered, easing out of the bedding and slipping on my silk gown with the phone lodged between my ear and shoulder.

 “ _I apologise for disturbing you at such an hour, ma’am._ ”

 I shut the bedroom door softly behind me as I stepped out onto the landing, leaning against the mahogany bannister, “What is it?”

 “ _Nia has agreed to accept Roan’s offer on the condition that you pay her bail._ ”

 “Bail? So, there’s been suitable evidence found against her?” I couldn’t help but feel a sense of deep satisfaction.

 “ _Yes. And you didn’t even need to lift a finger._ ”

 “The only finger I lifted belonged to Nia’s lawyer.” I shrugged lightly, knowing the ground work I’d done all week had paid off. Finally.

 “ _Now, no lawyer with any sense of self-respect will touch her with a barge pole_.”

 I felt the humour reach the edges of my eyes, “Don’t be silly, Indra. Lawyers don’t know what self-respect is.”

 “ _No, but even the dirtiest of lawyers don’t want to contract unsanitary diseases._ ”

 “I hear Nia offers them out on a buy-one-get-one-free basis.”

 Indra laughed, somewhat coarsely, down the phone, “ _Well, thanks to you, her only clientele will be her cellmates. Unless of course you want to pay her bail._ ”

 “Tempting, but I think I’ll pass. She’ll learn she’s lawyer-less in the morning. My only regret is not getting to see her face when she finds out.”

 It was more pleasing than I could describe. To know that I had been able to win at least one battle without bloodshed. Even though the prospect of an alive Nia left something to be desired, it was satiating to know that she would spend a few years behind bars while her bank accounts drained dry.

 “ _I feel I should apologise to you._ ” Indra’s voice sobered and my smile faded, “ _I questioned your decisions about Nia and I was wrong. You have done the impossible again and I didn’t put the faith in you that you needed._ ”

 I curled my hand around the bannister, sighing softly, “Indra, the day you agree with everything I say or do will be the day I resign. You are one of very few who will be honest with me when I need you to be.”

 “ _Then perhaps…_ ” She paused, choosing her next words with care, “ _…perhaps you’ll allow me to be honest with you now._ ”

 I waited, making no assumptions about what she might’ve said next.

 “ _I know you feel you owe everything to your company and to those of us who work for you. That’s partially why you have come as far as you have, and we are all indebted to you for that. But, I saw the look on your face when Clarke was threatened. Now, I’ll be the first to admit that I was wary of her from the start. I was worried she would be a distraction… that she would somehow find a way to mess things up for you. But, I haven’t seen you care about_ anybody _in this way before and even though I don’t believe anybody is worthy of you, I want you to know that we support your choice to be with her._ ”

 If anything, it was Clarke who chose me. I knew I was hers from the moment her eyes locked on mine.

 “ _You have faced a great ordeal over these past few weeks and you need to take some time to put yourself first. If you want to take a break for a while, I want you to know you deserve it._ ”

 Before I could really respond to her words, feeling suddenly very exposed even though Indra couldn’t see me, she cleared her throat brusquely.

 “ _Now, go to bed. I’ll see you soon_.”

 “Thank you, Indra.” I said, quietly.

 I trod carefully back into my bedroom, noticing Clarke had switched positions since I’d been gone, the quilt covers askew. I adjusted them neatly before sliding into bed beside her. Easily, she pushed her back against my chest, pulling my arm around her. I let my hand curl around her breast, my lips brushing over her shoulder.

 “You okay?” She mumbled, her voice thick with sleep.

 “I am.” I kissed her skin gently and she murmured something unintelligible before her breathing settled once more.

 

.::. _C_ .::.

 

 When I awoke the next morning, or perhaps early afternoon (I hadn’t worked it out yet), I felt groggy and my neck was stiff. Why was waking up so goddamn hard?

 Once I’d adjusted to consciousness, my eyes landed on Lexa. She was sitting cross-legged beside me, her laptop resting on her thighs, wearing a pair of short-shorts and a sports bra.

 Maybe waking up wasn’t so hard, after all.

 I inched my head to lean against Lexa’s hip, my lips grazing over the top of her thigh.

 Distractedly, she slid one hand into my hair, her other remaining occupied with the keyboard, “Good morning.”

 “Mmf.” I mumbled, blinking to adjust my vision on the screen, “What you doing?”

 “Planning.”

 Oh. Of course. ‘Planning’.

 “What?”

 “I have a yacht in Italy.”

 Naturally.

 “Have you ever been on a yacht, Clarke?” She asked, her fingers lightly massaging my scalp and stroking over the skin at the base of my neck. It was a little challenging to focus on what she was saying when she was touching me like that.

 “I’ve been on a dinghy boat before.”

 Lexa seemed amused, “Oh, then you’ll be a natural. It’s almost exactly the same thing.”

 I snorted quietly into her hip, “Forget Doctor. Just call me Captain Clarke.”

 “Yes, it does have a certain ring to it.”

 I watched her scroll through the webpages – ones that didn’t look like typical holiday destination sites I’d been used to trawling through before.

 “What are you looking on?” I asked, nosily moving to get a closer view.

 “It’s a private page. I advertise some of my properties on here for people to rent out. I have associates who use it for the same purpose.”

 I raised my eyebrows, examining some of the chic accommodations as she flicked through the page. Jesus.

 It would be an outright lie if I was to say that I wasn’t somewhat intimidated. I knew Lexa had money. I’d always known she could’ve bought and sold my entire life thrice over without even checking her pockets for extra change. But, even so, I had never really thought too deeply into just _how_ well-off she actually was.

 “You own some of these?”

 Lexa murmured a sound of confirmation, utterly unaware of my quiet awe, “Do you see anything you like?”

 “I mean, they’re not quite the 2.5 star Bed & Breakfast hotels I’m used to, but I’m sure I could manage.”

 Lexa didn’t seem to register the humour. I wasn’t sure she really knew what a Bed & Breakfast was.

 “Or, there’s this apartment in Greece. It belongs to a friend of mine.” She pointed to a prestigious building, each of the rooms inside looking about as big as my mother’s house.

 “You speak Greek, too?” I rolled my head to look up at her, and she just quirked an eyebrow in response.

 Of course she did.

 What couldn’t she do?

 If I didn’t like her to the extent I did, I was pretty sure I’d hate her.

 “I mean, honestly, they all look…” _Fucking amazing. Astonishing. Overwhelming_. “…beautiful. But, I would be happy sleeping on a park bench if it just meant escaping from here with you.”

 “A park bench?” Lexa maintained a straight face, but I could tell she was trying to decide whether I was being serious or not, “I ought to be careful. It seems you’re going soft on me.”

 “Yeah, but I fuck hard enough to compensate for it.” I returned, biting her thigh as a small reminder.

 That seemed to earn me Lexa’s full attention and she tugged on my hair, “Are you working today?”

 “Not until later. I’m doing a twilight shift. Why do you ask?”

 I knew exactly why she asked. I’d piqued her interest.

 “No reason.” She shrugged, turning the tables on me as she pushed her laptop from her legs, standing up and stretching eloquently. My eyes fell over the expanse of olive skin and her tight calf muscles, “Are you hungry?”

 “I could eat.”

 I just didn’t mention what it was exactly that I wanted to eat.

 She cast an enticing half-smile over her shoulder as she walked to the door, “Why don’t you come downstairs and help me choose something?”

 I was on my feet quicker than I could’ve given myself credit for, crossing the carpet over to where she stood. She was holding the handle, pulling the door slightly ajar. My hand fell on the wood and I shoved it back into the frame, “I’ve already made my choice.”

 She turned to face me, her back resting against the door, pale stare dancing with suppressed arousal.

 I found myself suddenly eager to continue this game… drag it out for as long as I could. I brushed her jaw with my lips, grabbing onto her pelvis and shoving her hips back against the hard wood. She gasped softly, her eyes widening. I pushed my thigh between her legs, my thumb tracing the outline of her mouth, feeling the breath as it escaped her lungs.

 “I think I’ll just have coffee and toast.” I told her, separating myself from her heaving chest and reaching for the door handle. She took a step away from the door, her breathing laboured and her eyes hard as I slipped out onto the landing, wrapping myself up in her nightgown. I was in the kitchen before she’d collected herself enough to come down the stairs. Smugly, I watched the kettle boil, wondering how long it would be before she finally resurfaced.

 I poured out two mugs of coffee, leaving one black for her.  

 As I turned towards the breadbin, I caught sight of her in all of her ethereal glory. She was observing me darkly, standing only inches away from me. I wasn’t entirely sure how long she’d been waiting for me to notice her; she was as silent as a hunter when she wanted to be.

 And now I was her prey.

 Her tongue ran over her lower lip, slowly.

 I expected her to say something – something to highlight her authority over me, or suchlike.

 But, she didn’t.

 She didn’t move, her eyes not straying from me even once.

 With newfound uncertainty, I took a hesitant step backwards, the silence thick and heavy between us. She was killing me.

 Reflecting my movement with confidence, she ghosted a few centimetres closer. And then she did it again. I was out of room. My back hit the counter as Lexa commanded the space before her, closing the distance towards me.

 Sometimes, I forgot how easily she found control. With the knowledge that I had teased her, left her wanting, she became all the more dangerous. She was standing so close to me now that I could feel her warmth, count her breaths.

 Without saying a word, she wrapped one slender hand around the belt holding the gown to my body, and tugged on it lightly. Her gaze pressed hard into mine as the belt fell loose. She wasn’t finished. With a nonchalant, but precise, flip of her skilful fingers, the gown had fallen at my feet.

 Desperate. I was _desperate_ for her to bruise my lips with hers; to give into me. Something. Her hand was cool against my flushed skin, her thumb dragging over my breast before she took the puckered flesh in her fingertips, pinching with such painful tenderness that my legs almost collapsed beneath me.

 “Fuck, Lexa–” I bit down hard on my lip, my head tilting backwards.

 She barely even arched her eyebrow at my exclamation, as though she was expecting it. Waiting for it. I gripped hard onto the counter as her fingers eventually traced the path down my stomach, leaving goosebumps to rise in pursuit of her touch.

 I _needed_ her to end the torturous pleasure. To finally succumb to her desire to possess me – I was already hers. She had already won.

 She read me, easily. I could see it in her eyes. She wanted me to beg. She knew I would. Her finger was hauntingly close to where I wanted it to be – but not close enough. And her mouth, god her mouth, was near enough to mine that I could kiss it if I wanted to. But, that would be breaking the rules, and she would punish me for it.

 “Please.” I choked out, and she deliberately moved her fingertip over me with such calculated effortlessness that I couldn’t stop the moan from leaving my mouth any more than I could’ve stopped the Earth’s orbit of the sun. She worked into me a little faster, her breath cool on my lips. And it drove me near to insanity.

 Then, right as I felt my legs begin to tremble and my heart begin to pound, she slowed. My lips parted in instinctual desire, “Don’t stop.” I pleaded, my throat tight and dry.

 All it took was one more touch before I felt my resolve crumbling, white hot pleasure searing through my vision and heating up my blood. I breathed heavily, panting for air and leaning my bodyweight against the counter while she just stood there, observing my reaction with mild interest.

 If I’d had the strength in me, I might’ve grabbed hold of her waist and tore at her lower lip. As it was, all I could do was stare and recover.

 With an impressive amount of self-righteous triumph, she offered me a chilling smile, her free hand (which had remained unoccupied throughout this entire ordeal) tucking a lock of hair behind my ear. She reached behind me and took the coffee I’d made her into her hold, “Don’t forget about yours. You don’t want it to go cold.”

 Then she sauntered to the sink and washed her hands, calm as you like, before placing a few slices of bread into the toaster.

 I could’ve murdered her. I wanted to for a split-second. She knew I did. And that was exactly what got her off.

 Pissed off, but still throbbing from the screaming orgasm, I awkwardly picked up her gown and considered wrapping the belt around her neck. Just for fun. The only course of action I could take from this point was to eat my toast. Business as usual.

 “Are you at the club tonight?” I asked, still mildly short of breath.

 Lexa shrugged, “I doubt it. I’ve got to check in with a couple of others later.”

 My plans for exacting my revenge waned at her response. I knew she had other clubs. Ones I probably knew existed, but ones that I didn’t know were hers.

 “Big grand ones like Polis?” I quirked an eyebrow and she smirked, mirroring my expression.

 “Not quite.”

 Now, I was _definitely_ intrigued, “Oh?”

 But, she gave nothing away.

 Lexa was certainly being difficult this morning.

 …Or afternoon. I still hadn’t worked it out yet.

 “Smooth jazz? Cheesy 80s bar?” I teased, buttering the toast and sliding a plate in front of her.

 “Again… not quite.” At my insistent stare, she finally conceded, “You might laugh.”

 “You might deserve it.”

 She agreed, silently.

 “Alright.” She pulled out her phone, playing a track through Bluetooth speakers I didn’t even know existed in her kitchen, “This sort of thing.”

 I listened, the sound of distorted guitars and gravelly voices pounding through the stereo, “I _knew_ it. You _do_ command a mosh-pit, don’t you?”

 To my surprise, she laughed melodically, “Not for quite some time. I sometimes make appearances at special events.”

 I tried to envision it; Lexa standing in some huge classic rock club, surrounded by girls with tattoos and guys with beards. It made me curious. Very curious.

 Training my ears on the unfamiliar style of music, I pushed my plate to one side, “I must admit… the thought of seeing you in one of your natural habitats does do something to me.”

 Now, I had piqued _her_ intrigue.

 “Does it?”

 I shrugged, lightly, “Maybe you find yourself in want of a plus one?”

 Lexa never underestimated me. That was something I liked about her – she knew I could handle stepping out of my comfort zone, and she was all too willing to watch it unravel.

 “When do you get off?”

 “About ten minutes ago.” I flashed her a cat-like grin, taking my plate to the dishwasher and sliding it onto the rack.

 In remembrance, Lexa took a lengthy sip of coffee, resolving herself to watching me across the counter.

 “Anyway, I should leave you to your afternoon. I have some things to get ready before work.”

 “You’ll be needing a lift.”

 I would also need to call in a favour from Octavia since I’d abandoned my car at the hospital.

 “Well, we don’t all have your stamina. If we did, I’d say I would give running home a go.” I moved towards her, spinning her around on the stool so she was facing me. I cupped her face with both hands and leaned down to press a lingering kiss to her lips.

 Her hands landed lightly on my hips and she ran her thumbs over the bones, kissing me back with a softness I hadn’t expected from her.

 When I eventually pulled away, my thirst for vengeance was quelled – but not gone. I would bide my time.

 She would get it.

 And if there was one thing I was good at, it was revenge.

 

…

 

 My shift passed relatively quickly. Almost too quickly. I had about a dozen cases one right after the other to deal with and barely enough time to complete them all in.

 “Mr Kearney, the bathroom is that way.” I pointed an elderly gentleman in the direction of the gents’ room, guiding him away from the operating theatre.

 20 minutes to go.

 Or 20 moons, maybe.

 “Allow me to just fasten this up for you.” I reached forwards to conceal his display of buttocks with the hospital gown hanging loosely around his shoulders.

 “Caught you looking.” A wrinkled grin creased the sides of his thin mouth as he leaned heavily against his mobility frame.

 “Well, don’t tell the nurses. They might get jealous.” I returned, stepping in front of him to open the door. He laughed wheezily and inched into the bathroom, steadily. I glanced over my shoulder at the bustle of activity in the lobby right at the moment a gush of air passed by me.

 Oh, fuck.

 I flung my arms out reflexively to steady Mr Kearney, but all I really managed to do was break his fall. He landed on me with a groan.

 “Now, this will give the nurses something to talk about.” He coughed heavily, attempting a laugh, but his face paled immediately after.

 I supported him as best I could from my compromised position on the floor, shouting for help from nearby staff. He was crashing, quickly.

 A couple of nurses attended hurriedly, discarding their clipboards and stooping down to assist him into a more stable position on the floor, “We need a stretcher!”

 “Don’t move him. He’s recently recovered from a spinal injury.”

The nurses looked at me as I lay immobile beneath his bodyweight, “What do you want us to do?”

 Carefully, I talked them through the procedures, trying not to move my arm where his head lay.

 “I’m… I’m okay.” Mr Kearney opened his mouth, probably to assure himself more than us.

 “Of course you are. Look at you, taking advantage of me like this, eh? What are we going to do with you?” I glanced to the door where other staff were making efforts to bring the stretcher through the doorway, “And in the gentlemen’s bathroom no less.”

 The most I could do was to try keep him conscious.

 “He’s suffering with hypotension. His resps are slow. Have the oxygen on standby.” I instructed, calmly. It took several minutes before he was safely transported onto the stretcher, “I bet you cause this much drama with the ladies on a daily basis, don’t you?”

 Mr Kearney wheezed, a weak smile forming on his lips.

 “Well, don’t worry, sir. We’ll have you in tip-top shape in no time. You’re in good hands.” I helped wheel him down the emergency bay, carefully pressing the oxygen mask around his mouth, “All I need you to do is take some deep breaths for me. Come on. Show us how it’s done, Mr Kearney… that’s it.” I turned to the nurse beside me, “He needs fluids. Can you take over from this for me?”

 I prepared an IV tube quickly, “Okay, you’ll feel a sharp scratch in a moment.” I pushed the needle into his vein, setting up the fluids to run into his system, “No sign of spinal relapse, but only move him if it’s absolutely necessary.”

 One of the nurses hooked him up to the BP machine.

 “Still low.” I murmured, “Keep the fluids going.”

 It was a while before we had him stabilised, and I tightened my ponytail, turning to the doctor taking me off. I gave her a thorough handover, “…Have the nurses continue neuro-obs every fifteen minutes for the next couple of hours. He will need checking over properly for internal injury.”

 The doctor nodded and swiftly took my place, “I’ve got it under control. Thanks, Dr Griffin.”

 I smiled, searching for her name in the corners of my subconscious. She was new. That was all I could remember.

 “No problem…” I trailed away, deciding against embarrassing myself and instead headed out into the lobby, bumping into Kane in the entryway.

 “Slacking again, Kane?” I teased, watching the way his cheeks flushed.

 “Just finished, actually. I was just waiting for…”

 “Oh, hi, baby.”

 “My mother.” I finished, turning to see her strolling towards us, “You’ve finished late. Getting paid quadruple for unsocial hours or something?”

 “If only.” She clicked her tongue, “I had to stay late. Only just finished an eight hour surgery.”

 “God.” I remarked, noticing the tiredness that pulled at her eyes. It had been a while since I’d seen her, and I could tell she was exhausted, “Got tomorrow off?”

 “Thankfully.” She walked with me out the doors and into the carpark, “And you?”

 “Thankfully.” I imitated with a sigh.

 “Well, if you’re free, why don’t you join us for lunch tomorrow?” My mother looked between Kane and me, with an air of hope.

 I shrugged, lightly, “I actually plan on being very hungover at that time.”

 She raised both eyebrows, “Oh? Going out tonight, are we?”

 I nudged her arm lightly with mine, “ _We’re_ not. But, I am, yes.”

 “Ah.”

 She said it as though she knew everything. Pfft. Mothers.

 “With Lexa?”

 Okay, well maybe she did know things. _Mothers_.

 “Maybe. I’d invite the two of you along, but…” I smirked, eyeing Kane’s hand as it twitched towards my mother’s, “It seems you two probably have other plans this evening.”

 Sending me a reproving glare, she tutted, “Really, Clarke. Don’t be so coarse. Anyway, if you’re spending the night with Lexa, perhaps she might like to join us for dinner tomorrow, if lunch is out-of-hours for you.”

 “Can I send her in my stead?” I slowed as I neared my car, to which my mother just nodded.

 “Please do.”

 “Rude.” I muttered, waiting for her to say something further, and when she didn’t, I groaned quietly, “You’re serious about me bringing her to dinner, aren’t you?”

 She inclined her head, “Absolutely. I think it’s about time you gave me a proper introduction.”

 Lexa and I had only just discussed making plans together. I wasn’t sure if this would be a step too far out of her comfort zone. And yes, in my opinion, going to Italy to visit Lexa’s private yacht on a romantic getaway was much less frightening than bringing her to dine with Dr Abby Griffin and her new boyfriend.

 “Maybe.” I resigned, praying that she would forget all about it tomorrow, “I’ll see you later. Have a good evening.”

 She pressed a light kiss to my cheek, “Be safe.”

 “You too.” I wiggled my eyebrows suggestively, quickly retreating into my car before she could berate me.

 Once I’d arrived home, I checked my phone and closed the door behind me.

 

  _[22:57] From: Lexa_

_Wear something black._


	23. Chapter 23

.::. _C_.::.

 “You look lost.”

 Octavia’s observation wasn’t far off the mark at all. In fact, it pretty much punched the mark square in the face.

 I sighed, “Going to a mysterious rock place and I don’t have a clue what to wear.”

 “Rock as in trees and rocks, or…?” Octavia leaned against my doorpost, crossing her arms lightly over her chest.

 “Yeah, O. I’m choosing midnight to explore my growing interest in geology.” I pulled out one of the few black items I owned and held it out in front of me with a grumble. It was a nightie. With white cotton paw-prints on it.

 “You should wear that.” She smirked, “I don’t care where you’re going. That is your ticket right there.”

 I tossed it towards her face, not bothering to see if it hit the target or not.

 She scoffed, coming to stand beside me, “So, you’re crossing to the dark side, are you? Rock ‘n’ roll, and all that?”

 “Yeah, and Lexa recommended I wear black. My wardrobe has forsaken me.” I quickly ushered her out of my bedroom, “Let’s go see what yours has to offer.”

 “I can promise you it has so much more to offer. I can’t _wait_ to grunge you up.”

 I chose to ignore Octavia’s terminology. ‘Grunge’ always reminded me of the lime-scale build ups in the sink.

 She routed through her closet, laying a few items out on her bed for me to compare them against each other. I was still trying to work out what the differences were.

 “Oh, that one has a zip at the front.” I acknowledged, more to myself.

 “Well spotted, chief.” Octavia smirked, “Now, I’ve already made my mind up about what you’re going to wear. Spit-spot!” She directed me to stand in front of her so she could measure the dress against me.

 “Very good, Mary Poppins. Will I look magical?”

 “Yes. Now, put it on.”

 I did as I was told, going to examine myself in the mirror. It was more gothic than I was used to, but it was elegant. Something Lexa would wear just to take out her bins. Black and lacy with cut outs at the waist and transparent netting at the back. The collar came up to the base of my throat, but left my shoulders exposed – and I knew Lexa had a thing for biting my shoulder-blades. So far, it was a winner.

 “Your tits look marvellous in that.” Octavia commented, fastening me up at the back.

 She wasn’t wrong. But, my tits generally looked marvellous in whatever I wore.

 “Do your eyes smoky.” She instructed, pointing to her chair, “You’re going to look like an angel from hell.”

 “Is that a good thing?” I asked, doing as she said anyway. Octavia went through an emo stage in her teens, so I knew I should probably do as she told me.

 It wasn’t much longer before I was more or less ready – a little later than I perhaps should have been.

 

  _[00:03] To: Lexa_

_Address?_

 Lexa responded relatively quickly, informing me she would have her driver pick me up in fifteen minutes. Curiouser and curiouser.

 “What are your plans, anyway?” I asked Octavia, lacing up my heels.

 “Going to bed, mostly.” She shrugged, “Might binge-watch something.”

 “Don’t watch Our Planet without me.” I kissed her on the cheek before retreating to my bedroom to fetch my bag.

 I remember thinking the night air was warm. Or maybe that was just me. I would’ve being lying if I’d have told myself I wasn’t nervous. A little excited, too. Part of me was hankering after the image of seeing Lexa in a smoky room, quietly commanding every inch of her body – and mine. The other part of me didn’t know what to expect.

 I thanked her driver and closed the car door behind me, before I’d even really managed to gauge my surroundings.

 So… where was the club?

 “Are you lost?”

 Consistently, it seemed.

 I turned at the sound of a young man’s voice, catching sight of him loitering outside a shady building. I lit the cigarette in my lips and moved towards him, “I’m looking for…”

  _Dammit, Lexa._ I didn’t even know what the damned place was called.

 The young man just smiled knowingly at me, examining my attire and jerking his head to an unoccupied looking warehouse, “Yeah, you’re in the right place.” He nodded his head to the sign on the door: PRIVATE PARTY.

 I was beginning to doubt whether I really was in the right place or not.

 “Bit of a shot in the dark… but I don’t suppose you know somebody called Lexa, do you?”

 The young man just raised his eyebrows and laughed, “Somebody called Lexa? I’d be a shit doorman if I didn’t know who Lexa was. Do _you_ know her?”

 Well, I was doubting whether I did or not, now. I parted my lips, trying to think of something to say to the doorman that wouldn’t make him give me anymore strange looks.

 “Relax, blondie. I’m messing with you. She’s here, waiting for you inside. I’ll direct you.” He opened up the door and gestured for me to step inside. Cautiously, I did.

 The second I touched the floor, I felt distant vibrations under the soles of my feet.

 “Mike!” The doorman yelled across the dusky open space of the lobby to his pal at the other end.

 Mike looked up from his booth, sending a small group of people through a set of double doors. When they opened, heavy music poured through the gap, but it was too dark for me to see much beyond the smoky silhouettes.

 I tossed my cigarette onto the floor outside as Mike weaved his way towards me, tossing a tangle of black hair out of his face, “You must be Clarke.” He offered me a crooked smile and shut the main entrance door behind me, “Right this way.”

 I followed Mike to the set of double doors opposite and he guided me, with one hand on my shoulder, through the crowds of people gathered in a huge dark room. I couldn’t work out whether I was feeling my heart beating in my chest or the drums.

 Then, I saw her. She was mingling with the rest of the commoners, interacting with a group of rowdy rockers. The moment she turned, her jaw fell slack. She murmured something quietly and strode towards me, hardly bothering to look at Mike when she thanked him.

 She leaned forwards to kiss me delicately on the cheek. It was a surprise, and I reacted by saying something completely ridiculous.

 “Do I need one of those bands?” I asked, noticing fluorescent wristbands on almost every occupant in the room.

 Mike just looked between the two of us and laughed, “Oh, bless her. Go on. Have a drink for me.” He patted my shoulder lightly before slinking back to the main lobby.

 “So, I don’t need one.” I clarified, feeling really quite overwhelmed.

 Lexa raised both eyebrows, her hands falling to my hips, “Clarke, you’re with me.”

 Well. She had a point.

 “You made it alright.” She appeared amused and turned on all at the same time. I rested my palms on her biceps, pulling her a little closer to me.

 “I don’t know about ‘alright’ or not, but I made it.” I let her press her lips to mine, feeling her smile against me before she pulled away and snaked one arm around my waist.

 She tugged me close to her, her mouth brushing over my ear, “I’m impressed. You look…” She must’ve been trying to find the right word to say, so I supplied it for her.

 “Like a goth?”

 “ _Beautiful_.” She corrected, “Let’s get you a drink.”

 I glanced around me, noticing the interactions between the club-goers and how they differed from what I was used to.

 “So, you don’t have some special VIP section here for you to state your superiority?” I jibed, watching as a cup full of alcohol (or other liquid substance) sailed over the crowds.

 “I’m afraid not. Superiority doesn’t exist here. So, you’ll have to mingle with the peasants.”

 Then, right on cue, some sweaty gent tumbled into me and clapped me on the back, “Sorry, darlin’!”

 Lexa tugged me a little closer to her, one hand sliding to rest on my lower back. It was subtle claim, but she was marking her territory nonetheless.

 The man grinned sloppily and ambled away into the crowds, leaving Lexa and I pressed together. She arched an eyebrow at me, leaving my heart hammering wildly in my chest.

 “Hello, by the way.” I murmured, already feeling my cheeks colour.

 “Hi.” She smirked at my expression, leaning against the bar, one elbow balancing on the counter.

 I was starting to like this side of Lexa. A lot. More than I should, “Are you ready to drink dirty vodka mixers?”

 She was always cocky. But, never this relaxed in public.

 Something about this place seemed to unlock her. I wanted nothing more to see the result.

 “I don’t think you could handle me that drunk…” I returned, knowing I would be getting that drunk anyway.

 “I can’t handle you sober, Clarke.”

 I leaned into her, resting one hand on her hip, “Then, maybe we should both lose a little control.”

 She laughed, quietly. Freely.

 “I don’t doubt that I will. I usually do when I’m with you.”

 And I didn’t realise until later just how true this was. But, just not in the way I would’ve expected.

 I wrapped my arm around her waist, digging my thumb into the tender spot beside her pelvis, “Nothing gets me off more than watching you unravel, Commander…”

 Even through flashing fluorescence punctuating the darkness, I could see the growing rouge of her cheeks. I pulled away from her and turned my attention to the barman, knowing I probably wouldn’t be forgiven easily for that.

 “Favourite colour?” He asked, resting one muscled arm on the counter.

 I sent a sidelong glance to Lexa, feeling her observe me with interest. It was a question she’d never asked me before, nor I her. In fact, there were a lot of questions we hadn’t asked each other… basic small talk things, you know… like each other’s birthdays, or (cough, cough) the other’s age…

 “It used to be blue, but nowadays, I tend to favour green.” I ignored the way my skin heated when Lexa ran her eyes over my face.

 “Green it is.” He grabbed plastic pint cup and tipped a couple of vodka shots into the bottom before filling it to the brim with fizzy green liquid, “Apple flavoured – you’ll be drinking it like pop.”

 I took a sip, “It does taste like pop.” I let the taste roll over my tongue, the sugar rush buzzing in the back of my skull, “…But, also vodka.”

 Lexa took a blue pint from the counter and pulled me to one side to free up room at the bar, “What are your thoughts?”

 “My thoughts? I’m thinking I want to see you down that.” I nodded to her drink, challengingly.

 “You say that like you think I’d find it difficult.”

 I shrugged, “I’ve only ever seen you sip wine and champagne. Show me how you dirty drink.”

 “You first, Dr Griffin.”

 I just scoffed and chugged the contents back, feeling a splash of it land on my chin. After a moment, I gasped and placed the empty cup back on the bar surface, “Satisfied?”

 “I’m sure I will be by the end of the night.”

 I smirked, inclining my head, “Go on then. Your turn.”

 With the grace of the refined lady she was, she tilted her head back and placed the plastic rim to her lips, managing to drain the contents without blinking. Primly, she dabbed at the corner of her mouth to wipe away the non-existent alcohol.

 I groaned to myself, “Of course. I don’t know why I expected that to go any differently.”

 Lexa’s hands found my hips and she pulled me into her body, flickering her gaze down to my chin, reminding me of my previous spillage. Before I could reach up to wipe it away, she ran her tongue over it, tasting the flavour with a smirk.

 “Two reds, please.” She requested, glancing over my shoulder at the bartender.

 “Are you sure it’s just vodka and soda in that?” I laughed as she received the two pints, handing one of them to me.

 “Drunk already?” She led me away from the bar as I sipped at the cherry flavoured vodka/carpet-cleaner.

 “Not drunk… just…” I tried to gauge my level of sobriety as we approached the centre of the room where activity was rife, “… aware that there’s alcohol happening somewhere in me.”

 The music intensified, a particularly heavy song blasting through my bones as Lexa led me to the edge of some sort of mosh pit.

 “Well, I never thought I’d see one of these up close.”

 I could feel her eyeing me; testing me. She was wondering if I could handle the thundering of feet and the careless bumps and shoves of the crowd before me.

 It was new. This side of Lexa was new. The way she naturally swayed in time with the music. The way she took me to the edge of my comfort zone, and lightly nudged me over the line.

 The heat of the tightly compact bodies wasn’t lessened by her proximity to me. If anything, it made everything hotter.

 Stifling.

 I wasn’t even sure how many people were within a fingertip’s reach of me, only that Lexa was the closest. The strongest force, and the surest.

 “Sure you’re okay?” She asked the question with an air of caution, and even though the gravelly vocals all but drowned her out, I could still make out the teasing undertone. I glanced at the older gentleman beside me, his beer sloshing over the edges of his cup. He caught my eye and sent me a sloppy grin. I held his gaze, reaching forwards and taking the drink from him. Surprisingly, he was all too happy to oblige. He cheered as I downed the contents. It burned, just a little, but it was quickly replaced with something else. Something hotter.

 Lexa’s eyes were fixed on me, dark and heavy, as I licked my lips to rid myself of the froth.

 Before I could snap something witty at her, a group of moshers stumbled towards me, shoving everything and everybody they connected with.

 I bit back the doctor’s concern that at least one of them was bound to get hurt and instead watched the way Lexa’s eyes glittered as one young man fell to the ground. The woman who had been responsible for putting him there leaned down with her companion and hoisted him to his feet, patting his back and redirecting him back in the middle once more.

 “Tell me you aren’t stupid enough to go in there.” I shouted over the top of the drums and Lexa just raised an eyebrow, one hand snaking around my waist to tug me out of the crossfire. I caught sight of a greasy sort of man as he toppled towards Lexa. Without breaking from me, she caught his shoulders with her free hand and pushed him easily back to the centre.

 “Not tonight. Not when I have you by my side.” Smoothly, she pulled me away from the crowds, moving me quickly towards an unoccupied space by the wall, “They wouldn’t stand a chance if I dragged you in there.”

 I knew she was poking fun at me, but there was something all too real behind her eyes as her body pressed to mine, almost acting as a shield.

 Right.

 Protector-complex.

 Again, I was going to say something, but Lexa’s smirk was disarming, her hands finding my hips, “Besides, I have my own plans for roughing you up without _their_ help.”

 And then, for the first time, I listened to the lyrics blasting through the speakers.

 

_This feeling that you’re giving me, I can’t replace it._

_There’s a fire burning deep inside that I can’t stand._

_A raw kinda connection and I can’t erase it._

_Knock back that drink and take my hand._

_I wanna take a little time to get to know ya._

_I wanna take a little time, let me inside._

_The sexual tension is intoxicating._

_You been running on replay in my mind._

 

 I couldn’t help but roll my eyes, hating how relatable it was. With a careless growl, I caught her by the waist and spun her around so she was trapped between my body and the wall behind her.

 

_I can’t think clearly ‘cause your beauty is killin’ me._

_Follow me home, you might be the one._

_I’m losing my self-control, falling in lust._

_You know, our bodies entwined._

_I think you might be the one tonight._

.::. _L_.::.

 

_I wanna run my tongue across your body._

_Tell me, won’t you run your fingers through my hair._

_Let’s let our heartbeats do the talking._

_Just say the word and I’ll take you there._

_I’m liking the way you turn me on._

_I’ll be loving you ‘till the break of dawn._

_Baby, all I wanna do is take you home._

 I noticed Clarke’s jaw pull tight as she held me captive against the wall. She was battling with herself. She wanted me. I could feel it. I could feel it weighing on my chest, yanking at my limbs.

 “Clarke.” I breathed, most likely an inaudible sound, but she heard it. Or read my lips. Her eyes had been hanging on them since the moment I’d teased her. It was inevitable that she would kiss me. But, she was taking her time to do it.

 Clarke pinned my shoulders to the wall, lowering her face to my neck, leaving open-mouthed kisses on my skin. It was unbearable. I gasped, tilting my head back dizzily. She was proving one thing, and that was that yes; she could absolutely handle this.

 “Let’s get another drink.” She ordered, pulling me away from the wall with a sense of urgency.

 I followed her, mostly because I was at a loss at what else I could say. She grabbed another colourful pint, pressing it into my palm as she took her own.

 Clarke was swaying a little, partially in time to the music, and partially because she was slowly lacking control over her balance.

 Her drink disappeared within seconds. And then she was getting another.

 I didn’t stop her, or even question her. But, I passed mine to a bystander, deciding that one of us needed to remain mostly conscious. Clarke could drink. I’d learned that about her early on in our interactions. Something else I had learned about Clarke was that she very rarely knew when to stop.

 I knew it was a natural habit for her. She’d explained it to me before, about how she sought immediate releases. It didn’t affect me, particularly. But, it did make me wonder if she was as okay as she’d have me believe she was.

 She’d been through a lot recently, and I would never be able to get over how easily she’d adapted to my way of life.

  _That_ was the problem I was slowly starting to see. Aside from the occasional interruption from Octavia during our sexual escapades and aside from bumping into her mother at the hospital, Clarke hadn’t shown me _her_ life. Not really.

 “You’re brooding.” Her words were slurry, but the mischief in her eyes was scorching. One arm wrapped around the back of my neck, tugging me closer to her chest, “Are you going to share?”

 I quickly concealed whatever expression I might’ve been wearing and quirked an eyebrow.

 She was expecting that sort of reaction. I could tell because her mouth pulled upwards into a startling grin, “Then dance with me, _commander_.”

 My body stalled, static surging down my spine.

 Yielding, I stepped into her personal space as she deposited her empty cup, both arms sliding around my shoulders. I cursed to myself at the way the pinch of her cheeks, dark eyes and flowing blonde hair enraptured every part of my attention.

 I wanted to do much more than just dance with her.

 She knew it.

 She was counting on it.

 Our hips were excruciatingly close, Clarke’s heat passing through her clothes onto my skin. It was enough to shatter my resolve.

 “Come home with me.” I murmured, lowering my mouth to her ear.

 Her fingertips grazed over the base of my neck, “Now? We’ve been here barely two hours.”

 That seemed like long enough to me.

 “Now.”

 She didn’t take much more persuading than that, and she inclined her head, slowly.

 I texted my driver, quickly. Without wasting any more time, I claimed Clarke’s hand, leading her through the heaving body of clubbers to the exit.

 “Your girl had enough, already?” Mike was grinning at me, directing the most recent visitors through the entrance.

 I was grateful that Clarke answered for me, because I was in no position to verbally interact with anybody.

 “If I get one more drink spilled on my housemate’s dress, she’ll murder me.”

 Mike scoffed, and opened the doors for us, “Well, thanks for dropping in, anyway. Good to see you, Lexa – and nice to finally meet you, blondie.”

 I nodded tightly, by way of a farewell and dragged Clarke out onto the streets so we could wait for the car. She lit up a cigarette and placed it between her lips, breathing back the smoke leisurely. Her gaze was hooked on mine and it took everything I had not to strip her where she stood.

 Clarke knew how to do it to me. Judging by the seductive pull of her smile, she was all too aware of my staggered breathing.

 “Been talking about me, ma’am?”

 I wanted to rip the cockiness from her, but she had the upper-hand. And we both knew it.

 The seconds ticked by at half speed, Clarke’s cigarette seeming never to diminish.

 Then, the car arrived. I had Clarke in the backseat, her cigarette extinguished on the pavement.

 Her hand slid between my thighs in the darkness, squeezing at the muscle with intent.

 That was her mistake. I would’ve managed to bridle my desires if she’d only learned how to keep her hands to herself. As it was, she’d breached the barrier. I exhaled, closing my hands into two fists. With more subtlety than I expected, her fingers slid into the slit of my dress, creeping closer to my centre.

 Alarmed, I snapped my head to look at her.

 That was _my_ mistake.

 The azure in her gaze was tinted with black. I couldn’t look away. I didn’t want to. Her hand brushed over my underwear, calling me out with her infuriating smirk. What did she expect? I had been ready for her the moment I’d seen her step into my club, her blonde waves stark against the black lace of her dress. Dark red lips. Skin pale under the neon lights.

 I bit down hard on my lip, tasting blood as she eased the fabric to one side, sliding into me with purpose.

 I wrestled with my tongue, desperate to stop the curse from escaping my mouth. Clarke was still watching me, amused, turned-on, expectant.  

 And she wasn’t stopping.

 Her hand worked me into a state of uncontrollable pleasure, circling me, pumping into me.

 I was so close.

 All I could do was stare at the intensity of her gaze as she silently pushed me further.

 Too close.

 “Come for me.” She all but mouthed the words.

 And I was. I _did_.

 Before I could stop myself.

 I bit down harder on my lower lip. I didn’t even think about the imprints I’d created on my mouth. How could I? When she was looking at me like that. When she was making me feel like _that_.

 I was tight around her, and she could feel it. Basked in it. She kept me going right until I couldn’t do anything but quiver uncontrollably in the leather seat.

 My driver kept his car pristine. He’d clean the seats, without knowing what it was he was cleaning up.

 The thought was intrusive. The way Clarke looked at me as though she knew my thoughts was exposing, and she was all too willing to accept the blame for that. And my thoughts. It was obvious by the way she focused on me, albeit a little hazily. I could see something else in her eyes; surprise, maybe. I’d have to pick her brains later about that.

 But, once we were outside my home, the car doors opening up, Clarke wasted little time in spilling her thoughts.

 “I thought I’d get a moan out of you at least.” She breathed as I swung my shaking legs out of the car and onto the gravel.

 As she moved close to my side, she scanned my expression. I was raw and open, and I could feel it.

 “Then again…” She began, watching me as I unlocked the front door.

 Words weren’t my forte at the best of times, which she was well aware. She may have been waiting for me to say something, or at least, waiting for me to struggle with myself.

 Instead, though, she pulled me into the kitchen, running her thumb over my lower lip and examining the small droplets of blood on her skin, “…maybe you found it harder than I thought you did.”

 I placed my bag on the counter, tilting my head to one side, choosing to say nothing. The metallic taste on my tongue wasn’t unfamiliar. Clarke was good at making pain taste sweet.

 She moved to stand in front of me, her hands claiming my hips. I expected her to continue her charade, maybe dig her hold into my pelvis. But, she didn’t. Instead, she angled her head upwards to reach my lips, lingering against me. Kissing away the throb of my mouth.

 “Are you going to tell me what you were brooding about earlier?” She murmured, sliding her palms over my waist, her thumbs pressing gently against my ribs.

 I’d rather thought she’d have forgotten about that.

 I shook my head, “Not yet. I have other priorities, at the moment.”

 She angled her head to the left, arching an eyebrow in intrigue, “Oh? What might they be?”

 My fingers splayed over the small of her back, dragging upwards to find her zipper. I was going to undress her slowly. And she was going to let me.

 The black dress fell to the floor and I pushed her a step back so I could absorb the lace underwear against her smooth skin.

 Toeing her dress to one side, I directed her towards the stairs, “Come upstairs.”

 She followed me, without question. Once she was in my bedroom, I took a slow breath, shutting the door. I had been turning something over in my mind. Something that frightened me and excited me. I wanted to show Clarke what she meant to me. The extent of my trust in her. I had battled with myself about this for some days, and now felt like the right time to tell her.

 “I want you to tie me up.”

 The words sounded a lot less controlled than I’d expected.

 Clarke took a sharp breath inwards, resting her teeth on her lower lip. For a moment, she looked as if she might ask if I was sure that was what I wanted. But, she thought better of it, for one reason or another.

 She inclined her head, slipping easily into role, “What would you like me to use?”

 “There’s some rope…” I began, clearing my throat quietly, “…in the middle drawer.”

 She eyed me carefully before pointing to the bed, “Lay.”

 I did.

 She was gentle as she joined me on the bed, hooking the rope around the bedposts. She was slow, probably making sure I had enough time to back out, if I wanted to.

 Lowering her head down to mine, she peppered my face with light kisses. It settled me, and I could almost ignore the rising tension in my stomach. Even as I raised my arms for her, I pushed away the thoughts that threatened my stability. The reasons why I hadn’t done this up until now. With anybody.

 I pushed away the sickly flutters in my chest and closed my eyes as Clarke artfully wrapped the rope around my wrists. Her touch was soft and reassuring as she grazed her fingers over my palms. But, once she separated from me, even for the briefest moment, my breathing quickened.

 I didn’t move.

 I didn’t dare try to because I was so afraid of realising that I couldn’t.

 “Lexa?”

 My mouth was sealed shut.

 “Will you look at me?” It was a reasonable and understandable request. But, it was one I couldn’t meet.

 “ _Lexa_.”

 I inhaled, the air seeming to rap itself in my throat before it could reach my lungs. I was frozen and I couldn’t bear to see Clarke looking at me, _seeing_ me like this. And then, she said nothing further, and just untied the ropes from my hands. Instinctively, I pulled them to fold against my chest, focusing on my breathing. In, out. In, out. In.

 In.

 It was strained and I was engulfed with shame.

 For a few moments, there was nothing. No words. No contact. Just a void. I wasn’t even sure I was present.

 Then, at exactly the right time, right as I was about to fall into the depths of a darkness – a vague but harrowing fragment of my past – Clarke pressed one hand to my cheek, "Lexa.” She spoke, “I’m here. You’re safe.”

 Safe?

 She said it again, voice mellow and husky and exactly how I liked it, “You’re safe.”

 Safe.

 I had wanted so badly to prove that I trusted her. To make her see she was different. Because she _was_ different. She was everything. And I had failed her.

 “It’s okay.”

 “No.” I choked, “It’s not. I wanted–”

 I couldn’t even tell her what I wanted without it sounding clumsy and ineloquent. I’d put her in a horrible position, and now she would probably blame herself, when it was my fault.

 “You wanted to show me you trust me.”

 I didn’t question how she knew that. She had a knack of knowing everything, it seemed.

 “Listen to me, Lexa.” She adjusted herself so she was horizontal beside me, her hand on my ribs, “You’re not ready for this.”

 I wanted to challenge it. I tried, but I couldn’t.

 “You’re not ready for this, and maybe you won’t ever be.” She continued, “And it’s okay. It’s _okay_.”

 Her fingers traced delicate patterns over my diaphragm, “You have let me into your life. Introduced me to the people closest to you. Trust is something that can take years to build. But this, this is not you mistrusting me, at all. It’s the opposite.”

 How?

 She answered my internal question as I knew she would.

 “You’re letting me know what scares you. You are showing me the things that hurt you. That this is something that makes you feel vulnerable. That’s what trust is, Lexa.”

 Her words took a second to make sense to me. But, when they did, I finally opened my eyes.

 “Earlier, I was thinking about how easily you’ve accepted me.” My voice was shakier than I would’ve liked, but it didn’t matter. “I was thinking about the way you’ve handled everything that’s happened between us. How you’ve been through hell. But, how you’ve stayed with me. I wanted to prove to you that I trust you. That I’m not going to walk out on you. That this is the most real thing I’ve ever felt.”

 Clarke moved closer to my side, her mouth resting in my hair.

 “And I also thought about how it’s all been about me and my way of living. I… I want you to show me your life. More of it, I mean.”

 She laughed, to my surprise.

 “It’s funny you should say that, actually.”

 “Why?” I creased my eyebrows, lightly.

 “Well… I’m hoping she’s forgotten about it. But… my mother has invited us over for dinner tomorrow.”

 “And… are we going?”

 Clarke grumbled something noncommittal, burying her face deeper into my hair to conceal her response.

 “Clarke.” I prompted.

 More grumbling.

 “Do you want to?” She asked, finally.

 “Yes.”

 I heard her kicking off her heels onto my bedroom floor before she pulled the duvet over herself, “It’s going to be terrible.”

 “Why?”

 Grumble, grumble.

 “Why, Clarke?”

 “Because it means she will want me to be nice to her new boyfriend.” She sighed, adding the fur blanket to her nest, “And I know I’ll be a diva about it.”

 I was slowly feeling more comfortable in my skin the more Clarke behaved like… well, herself. It was grounding and I needed it.

 “Well, have you met him before?” I asked, not trying to hide the slight amusement tugging at my mouth.

 “Yes.” She groaned, “He’s one of the most senior paramedics at the hospital and I have played pranks on him with the other interns since the start of my career because he’s so anal.”

 She grimaced, then.

 “What a horrible way of describing his personality.” She added.

 This time, I laughed.

 Her eyes slid to meet mine at the sound.

 “I suppose I’ll have to behave though, really.” Clarke hooked her leg around my hips, her head angling into the crook of my shoulder, “If I don’t, she won’t either. The last thing we need is Mother Griffin spilling all the terrible anecdotes of my youth.”

 I turned then, keeping her thigh in place as her head lowered to the pillow. We were facing each other, and Clarke had her hand on my neck, “I am counting on it that she will.”

 She groaned, her fingers tracing the collar of my dress, “You would.”

 I hesitated, the realisation that I was fully clothed when Clarke was clad only in her underwear, “I’m sorry.” I said quietly.

 She waited for me to explain why, although I was sure she already knew.

 “I spoiled tonight for us.” I glanced to her chin so the low-burning fire in her blue eyes didn’t do something that might break me.

 “Don’t, Lexa. If anything, I feel like I know you better now. I don’t fully understand why you feel the way you do. I can’t ever fully understand the things you’ve been through. All I do know is that you are beautiful and whatever it is you’ve had to endure has made you so strong and so…” She pulled me closer, her hand tucking my hair behind my ear, “… so incredible. I know that sometimes things are going to be difficult between us because of who we are. Sometimes, we are both going to struggle with ourselves and we might get a little distant with each other, but I know that you are the person who can bring me back to myself. Remind me who I am. The same way that I hope to do that for you, too.”

 For a few moments, I couldn’t speak. Clarke was used to my silence. It was something that didn’t unsettle her the way it used to. The way it did with others. She rolled my dress upwards, without underlying purpose. I let her pull it over my head and toss it behind her onto the floor.

 We were pressed together, her thigh returning to my hip, skin on skin. I was aware that I’d left her untouched; without pleasure. Part of me hated not returning the favour, but there was no pressure from her to do anything of the sort. I felt certain she would allow me to if I insisted, but I felt altogether too open and exposed to leave the security of her arms. Besides, she was probably exhausted after her day at work mixed with a cocktail of heavy rock and questionable vodka. I could tell by the slow pace of her breathing.

 Automatically, I brought my hand to her breast where it usually stayed for the duration of our nights spent together. She laughed, softly.

 “What?”

 “Nothing. I just like your habit of doing that before we sleep.” She kissed my nose, enfolding me in the blankets, “Also, I will definitely need to pee at least twice in the night, but I’m far too comfortable to do anything about it right now.”

 “So long as you don’t do it in my bed. This blanket is an original made specifically for me.”

 Clarke laughed, breathily, “No promises.” She mumbled, the small smile remaining on her lips up until the point she fell asleep against me.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A slightly shorter chapter than planned, but one I hope has satisfied you nonetheless.
> 
> Song: The One - We Are Harlot.
> 
> Please continue to share your thoughts with me.  
> Until next time...  
> Lady Of Cythera  
> xox


	24. Chapter 24

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I thought I'd do something a little different and add in another perspective for this chapter. I hope you enjoy the slight change. Thank you for all your support. I'd love to hear your thoughts again. They make my day.
> 
> Lady Of Cythera   
> xox

.::. _C_ .::.

 “Well, my mother has let me down.”

  I was sitting on Lexa’s bedroom floor, my legs crossed in front of her full length mirror as I attempted to bring a bit of life to my face with a spot of makeup.

 I wasn’t convinced it was working.

 “Why?” She caught my eye through the reflection, drying her hair with a fluffy grey towel, “has she cancelled dinner?”

 I groaned, morosely, “If only. No… she remembered about it.” I replaced the phone in my hand with a mug of coffee Lexa had prepared for me, “I don’t suppose you’ve slipped whiskey in this by any chance? Or maybe it’s a Bloody Mary in disguise…?”

“Don’t you think you’ve had enough alcohol for one weekend?”

 I scoffed, stuffing my mascara back into my makeup bag, “Have you met me?”

 She acknowledged this with a knowing raise of her eyebrow, “Once or twice.”

 I was content with just watching her for a while through the glass; the way the light fell on her naked skin. The dips of her waist and the curve of her spine. The ink travelling down her back…

 I wasn’t aware I’d been biting my lip until she glanced at me over her shoulder, and I released it from my teeth.

 “What will you be wearing?” Lexa asked me, wrapping the silken gown around her frame.

 “I don’t know… Definitely not Octavia’s dress. And definitely not just my underwear.” I glanced down at the lace I was currently clad in, knowing full well that Lexa was doing the exact same.

 “Pity.” She remarked.

 “I think I’ve left some clothes here. Jeans and a top, or something. Why? What are you wearing?”

 Lexa shrugged, opening up her wardrobe, “I wasn’t sure whether it would be a formal event.”

 I shook my head, “I never dress formally for family dinners at home.”

 She nodded and fingered a few items of clothing hanging before her.

 “You should wear that long-sleeved green top. It matches your eyes. Plus… It’s got that nice cut-out bit at the back… and I like looking at your tattoos.”

 Lexa humoured me and dropped her gown to the floor, taking the top off its hanger. She was definitely the catalyst for the way my heart tripped in my chest.

 She fastened her bra at the back and pulled on a pair of matching underwear. Again, I watched her as she dressed herself. In clothes.

 Goddammit.

 Not that I didn’t like how she looked in clothes. I just preferred it when I could see everything else beneath them.

 “You look beautiful.” I told her as she turned towards me, the pale green of her eyes accentuated, even from across the room.

 Lexa neither accepted nor rejected my statement and instead pointed over to one of her mahogany drawer sets, “Your clothes are in the top drawer.”

 I wasn’t sure why such a simple remark left me feeling a little jittery inside. Maybe it was the knowledge that Lexa had taken time out of her day to neatly fold them and find a place for them in her carefully ordered bedroom. Or maybe it was because I’d left them there with the expectation I’d be returning for them. I concluded that it was both.

 “They have their own little place.” I commented.

 Lexa gave me a look, “I couldn’t very well leave them on my bedroom floor, could I?”

 Never missing an opportunity to make a dirty joke, I quipped, “That’s where my clothes usually end up.”

 She said nothing, but I could see her faint smile and the subtle colour of her cheeks.

 It wasn’t the reaction I’d been expecting, but she had been a little subdued since the previous night. We had touched that morning. But, it hadn’t been in a sensual way. Soft caresses and lazy kisses. Nothing more. And I wasn’t going to prompt Lexa to do anything unless she initiated it. I imagined she needed a little time to be in her own skin for a while. I understood why.

 Once I’d dressed myself, I turned to look at her, leaning against her dressing table as I turned things over in my mind, “How are you feeling today, anyway?”

 I’d assumed she would brush me off and occupy herself with something meaningless, but she didn’t.

 Naturally, it took her some seconds to answer me.

 But, she did answer me.

 “I’m fine.”

 With a disappointing response.

 “Fine?” I repeated, “You realise that’s what people say when they’re _not_ fine, right?”

 She exhaled and slowly moved towards me, reaching for my hand, “I thought I would feel… I don’t know, foolish. At least, more foolish than I do.”

 I waited.

 She sat herself on the surface beside me, resting our hands in my lap, “I don’t like acknowledging my weaknesses as you know, Clarke. But, I think it helps to know you accept me despite them.”

 From our conversation last night, I knew Lexa’s fears ran deeper than simply being unable to move her limbs. She had a fear of subjecting herself completely to somebody else – regardless of the individual. I wasn’t hurt or upset that she didn’t feel comfortable with being constricted and I certainly wasn’t ever going to attempt such a thing again. It wasn’t something she could confront just the once and then get over it immediately afterwards. It would take some time. She had a long and painful history – one I was barely privy too. One I suspected nobody except herself and possibly Anya understood. But, it didn’t matter. Lexa had been more open with me than she ever had been. That was enough.

 And it wasn’t weakness. Not in my eyes.

 Weak was simply not a word that could be applied to Lexa in any (platonic) context.

 “I don’t just accept you, you know.” I murmured, “And these things you see as weaknesses are the reasons why you’re so strong. I care about you. I want you. Everything that comes with you, everything that’s a part of you… that _is_ you. I’ve also said ‘you’ far too many times and now it doesn’t sound like a real word anymore.” I internally rolled my eyes at myself and squeezed her hand, lightly, “I don’t want you to feel like you have to keep any part of you hidden from me.”

 Slowly, she nodded, her full lips parting in expectation that she would say something further. When no sound left her lips, I let her claim mine in a blazing kiss. One that left me light-headed.

 It was over too soon.

 When she pulled away, I raised her hand to my lips and kissed her knuckles.

  “And, I’ll stop talking in a second, but if there’s ever a time where you don’t feel okay, I’m here to listen. I mean it. Or if you don’t want to talk that’s okay, too. Just know that I’ll be here if you want me to be.”

 “I always want you, Clarke.” She said it so quietly I wasn’t sure I’d heard properly, but the look on her face confirmed it for me.

 I wrapped an arm around her shoulders and squeezed her gently, “And, you know, if you don’t feel up to meeting my mother properly, then that’s fine…”

 She patted my thigh, condescendingly, “We’re not cancelling dinner. But, it’s a nice try, Griffin.”

 “Worth a shot, right?”

 Lexa sighed and rested her hand on my cheek, turning my face to hers, “It’s going to be fine, okay? I can be charming when I want to be.”

 “I am well aware of that.” I replied, “It’s not… it’s not you I’m worried about.”

 Lexa studied me, searching my expression with her well-practiced impenetrable gaze.

 “You’re the first.” I began, “The first to meet my mom, I mean.”

 Lexa took a slow breath inwards, seemingly shocked at my words, “I am?”

 I inclined my head, “Like this, anyway. Yeah. And you’re just so amazing and refined and everything else and…”

 She wasted little time in pressing her lips to my forehead, before pulling back again, “If it makes you feel any better, Clarke, it’s the first time I’ve ever been introduced to somebody’s family like this. It means a lot to me that you’re doing this.”

 Of course. When I first met Lexa, she was the last person I ever would have imagined to introduce to my mother; an inaccessible womaniser with time only for personal business and pleasure.

 Now, I couldn’t imagine anybody else I would rather be by my side.

 

.::. _Abby_.::.

 

 “Are the potatoes nearly done?”

 “Yes.”

 “And the gravy?”

 “Yes.”

 “What about the chopped veg?”

 Marcus adjusted the ties of my apron as he moved to stand behind me, “Yes, Abby. It’s all done.”

 I nodded, “Okay, the meat is just about ready, too.”

 He rested his hands on my hips and pressed his mouth to my shoulder, “Stop panicking. I’m sure she’ll be here any minute now.”

 I knew Clarke harvested her reservations about dinner. It wasn’t my cooking, fortunately. That much I knew for a fact. Clarke had always loved her food. She was probably a few minutes late due to managing her anxieties about introducing me to her girlfriend. She had never formally introduced me to any of her romantic interests in the past. I had met a few in passing as they snuck through my kitchen to the back door, but they were rarely the same faces. None of them had ever told me their names, either. I learned not to ask.

 This was a big deal for Clarke, whether she’d openly admit it or not, and I wanted so much to show her just how much I wanted to be a part of her life again. Beyond our white coats and scrubs.

 On top of that, I had some worries of my own. I didn’t want her to think Marcus was a replacement of her father, because he wasn’t. Nobody could replace him. Jake was my whole world. I still fought with the grief and guilt on a daily basis. But, I wanted Clarke to like Marcus even so. We had been friends for a long time and he was, truly, very special to me.

 “I think they’re here.” Marcus patted my hip lightly, dropping a reassuring kiss to my temple, “I’ll see to the meat. You go get the door.”

 I smiled and handed him the gloves, “Don’t drop it, will you?”

 “I’ll try my very best not to.” He laughed, leaning over to open the oven.

 I squeezed past him and headed to the front door, unlocking and opening it with a smile. Clarke was standing on the doorstep and she stepped forwards, permitting me to hug her.

 “Hello, baby.”

 “Hey, mom.” She separated herself from me and gestured to the tall girl beside her, “This is Lexa.”

 I remembered her quite well from our previous encounters at the hospital – memories I had been keen to forget, for obvious reasons.

 But, today was a clean slate.

 Lexa extended a hand towards me, a somewhat serious expression on her features. Dark and mysterious. Exactly Clarke’s type. I pushed this thought aside and dragged her into a hug instead, “Never mind that. It’s wonderful to finally meet you properly. Clarke has told me great things about you.”

 To her credit, Lexa didn’t shrink away at my touch and managed to receive my greeting with grace, “It’s a pleasure to meet you too, Doctor Griffin. You have a lovely home.”

 “Thank you, but please…” I waved a hand out in front of my dismissively, “Call me Abby.”

 “Can _I_ call you Abby?” Clarke interjected with her staple mischievous grin.

 “Yes, if you want to remember what it feels like to get grounded.”

 Lexa smiled and held out a bottle of very expensive looking wine, “I wasn’t sure what you liked. Clarke suggested this one.”

 Clarke just scoffed, “She’s lying. I’m not quite the sommelier Lexa is. She chose this one on her own and I agreed out of panic.”

 “That’s very sweet of you. Thank you.” I patted Lexa’s arm appreciatively, “Come and sit down. You can leave your shoes in the lobby. Dinner will be ready in a couple of minutes, providing Marcus hasn’t burned the meat.”

 “Or, better yet, providing Marcus hasn’t burned himself.”

 I caught the glance Lexa fired at Clarke and found myself warming to her immediately. At least one of them had manners.

 Once I’d closed the door behind them, and ushered them through to the dining room, I retreated back to the kitchen to make sure Marcus was managing. Luckily, he was doing really quite well. I thanked him as we transported the dishes to the table.

 Marcus wiped his hands lightly on his jeans as he entered the dining room, catching Clarke’s eye. I knew the two of them hadn’t always gotten along brilliantly, but I knew Marcus would have enough decorum to look beyond that. I just prayed that Clarke would do the same.

 “Hi, Clarke. Good to see you.” He shook her hand, “And you must be Lexa.”

 She received his hand firmly, “It’s nice to meet you, Marcus. Clarke mentioned you work at the hospital, too?”

 “Ah, yes.” He took a seat opposite Clarke and smiled warmly, “I’m less cultured than these brilliant doctors, though. Mostly, I trudge around in green overalls and make a general nuisance of myself.”

 “At least I know I’m in safe hands if I start choking.”

 The two of them struck up easy conversation together whilst Clarke busied herself helping to set the table. So far, so good.

 “So, how was your night, girls?” I asked, once everything was ready, sitting beside Marcus and handing the dishes around the table for people to help themselves.

 “It was good. We went to a rock club. Can you believe that? Me? At a rock club?” Clarke poured out a glass of wine for herself and Lexa before passing it over to Marcus.

 “It’s lucky you’re still alive to tell the tale.” He grinned, “I used to be into that scene back in the day, you know. I imagine it’s tamer now than it used to be.”

 Clarke snorted, “It must’ve been a real bloodbath back in the day, then.”

 He shrugged, “Bloodbaths are all a part of the fun.”

 I couldn’t relate, personally. I’d never been much of a party girl.

 The conversation tapered into comfortable silence as we began to eat. The only noises to break it were the knives and forks against plates, and the occasional comment on the quality of the food.

 I did notice Clarke and Lexa from across the table.

 She must have assumed I was getting naïve in my older age; either that, or she didn’t mind letting me see her attempts at secrecy the way she stole subtle glances at her girlfriend, frequently finding her hand beneath the table surface.

 I was finding it initially quite tough to gauge Lexa. She was an expressionless sort, focusing her concentration on maintaining composure. I wasn’t even sure if I’d seen her blink yet.

 If I hadn’t been who I was, I might’ve taken a bit of a disliking to her ostensible arrogance. But, the more I studied her, the more I noticed the finer details of her persona. The way her eyes would soften as she looked at my daughter. The way she offered her gentle smiles intended for only her to see. The way she listened to every single word Clarke said.

 Even the way she gave her undivided attention to me and Marcus when we spoke.

 However, I still had plenty of digging to do.

 “So, Lexa, Clarke mentioned you’ve got quite the head for business.”

 Time to scratch the surface.

 We both collectively ignored the fact our job roles had overlapped once in the past – when Mountweather Corp. threatened both her and me simultaneously.

 “Yes.” She paused, obviously wondering how to proceed, “I run a few companies here and there, but it was my older sister who introduced it all to me. She’s the natural talent of the family.”

 Her modesty didn’t seem pretentious. In fact, she appeared highly respectful when she spoke of her sister.

 “What does the rest of your family do?” I asked, sipping at the wine, which turned out to be an excellent choice.

 Clarke’s gaze flickered across to her, slowing the movement of her jaw as she chewed. Lexa simply look to me and smiled, “It’s just the two of us and her son.”

 I considered this and, for a moment, I wasn’t sure what to say. Clarke hadn’t mentioned Lexa’s familial situation, but she didn’t seem offended by my asking. On the contrary, she appeared somewhat amused, and carried the flow of the conversation when I couldn’t think of what to say.

 “I can assure you, though, I have my hands plenty full with just the one sister. Anya is more than enough.” She emitted a quiet laugh and placed her knife and fork down on her plate, returning her attention to me, “They’re planning on moving back to the city soon. It will be nice to see more of my nephew.”

 “So, how did the two of you meet?” Marcus rested a hand on my knee and used his other to help himself to more potatoes.

 Clarke had been busy with her wine up until now, but decided to jump in and take the limelight off Lexa for a moment, “We met on a night out.”

 “Not at the rock club?” He laughed.

 “No, at Lexa’s other–” She stopped herself, deciding to change her response slightly, “At a different club. Polis. Ever been, Kane?”

 I could tell Clarke was teasing him, but it wasn’t unkind.

 “Polis? That upmarket fancy club in the centre?” He raised his eyebrows, “How did you manage to get in there?”

 At least he was giving it back to her.

 “I have connections.” Clarke smirked.

 “You’d need them. It’s one of the clubs we rarely get called out to. I think we’ve only had two or three incidents there in the last year or so.”

 Her eye twinkled, “Yes. It’s very well managed.”

 “DC on the other hand…” Marcus sighed, “… is a lost cause.”

 Clarke laughed, “Oh, yeah. I imagine that it’s bad enough having to deal with the crowds there, let alone peeling the victims off the sticky floor.”

 “Usually, we just cut out the floor and take it with us still attached to the patient.”

 “I suppose it saves you having to get out the stretcher, at least.”

 I was pleased that Clarke was making an effort to have a conversation with Marcus that didn’t end up in her threatening to tie his shoelaces together.

 “But, to answer your question, no. I’ve never been to Polis. Well, not as a guest. I was there several months back to respond to a knifing, but that’s it. Admittedly, that was a tricky one. I was sure the bouncers were going to eat me up alive when I arrived. One look at those big bearded blokes and you realise just why there’s rarely any incidents.”

 “It must be frightening for you, having to turn up to situations as dangerous as that.” Lexa commented.

 He shrugged, “It can be. But, I suppose in the moment, your priority is the patient. Luckily, in that instance, the police were there before us. That doesn’t always happen, and that’s when it can get scary, you know.”

 “Yes,” Lexa nodded, “I can imagine. It’s very admirable that you’re so dedicated to saving lives.”

 He sighed, “Perhaps. The hardest part is when you can’t.”

 “Well, we don’t need to get all morbid.” Clarke interjected, “And if you’ve finished demolishing what’s left of the beef, plate and all, we’ll see to cleaning up. Why don’t you pour out the rest of that wine and we’ll join you in the living room once we’re done?”

 I nodded, sensing Clarke needed a few moments to check in with Lexa. We took the bottle and the glasses through to the next room and Marcus reclined on the sofa, resting his hands on his belly, “If you keep feeding me like this, I’m going to get very fat very soon.”

 “I’m in need of a new pillow. It’s all an elaborate plan.” I settled myself down beside him and kissed his cheek.

 “Was I talking too much?” He glanced over at me and I shook my head, immediately.

 “Not at all. You did great.”

 He laughed, resting one arm on the back of the sofa behind me, “Well, it’s not over yet. There’s still plenty of time for Clarke to plot my demise.”

 I hit his chest playfully, “Well, maybe you should have your Sunday nap with one eye open. I’ll wake you up if she comes in with a kitchen knife.”

 “ _When_ she comes with a kitchen knife.”

 “But, not if it’s a frying pan. I’d find it too enjoyable not to see.”

 Marcus lolled his head over to look at me, amused, “And you wonder where she gets her feistiness from.”

 “Oh, I’ve never questioned it.”

 

.::. _C_.::.

 

 Lexa nipped in and out of the kitchen, bringing in the dirty dishes and condiments as I stacked the dishwasher. I waited until the table had been cleared before I turned to her, “You okay, Casanova?”

 She quirked an eyebrow, “That’s a new one.”

 “What… Casanova?”

 She didn’t respond, but moved both hands to my waist, squeezing gently and leaning down to land a kiss on my lips.

 I leaned into it, feeling her body settle against mine. But, it was cut short and she pulled away, smirking at the deprived groan slipping from my mouth.

 “Are you going to show me the house?”

 I linked our fingers together and walked past her, stringing her out onto the corridor.

 “These are stairs. That’s a wall. Here is a bannister.” I gestured to our surroundings, already knowing Lexa would have some witty remark to make.

 “You’re in the wrong profession, Clarke. Have you ever considered being a tour guide?”

 There it was.

 “It has always been a lifelong dream of mine.” I pulled her up the stairs, hoping she wouldn’t catch sight of the framed photographs of me as a roly-poly child. It was futile, though. Lexa had already paused on our travels, examining the pictures with interest.

 “Yes, and that’s a picture of me on my third birthday.” I attempted, and failed, to hurry her along.

 “I have a question.”

 I waited, and she turned to look at me very seriously.

 “Did you manage to eat the entire cake?”

 “Can you not see how chubby I was? Of course I did.”

 She laughed, scanning the other photographs of my parents and me before she finally submitted to my insistent tugs on her hand.

 “There’s the bathroom. It’s orange, for some reason.” I held onto the porcelain ornament at the end of the long light switch which had been messily put together by sticky tape, “I broke this lighthouse when I was fifteen and tried to fix it with tape.”

 “Were you drunk?” Lexa asked, observing me with continual amusement.

 “Dreadfully.”

 “I quite like the colour of the bathroom, although I would say it was more peach than orange.” She remarked, seeming to take her time in inspecting absolutely everything, even down to the painting of the seaside above the bath.

 “That’s what my dad said. Mom kept trying to get him to redecorate it, but he liked the quirkiness of it. He was going to paint over it at her numerous requests, but he never got round to it. They had a lot of arguments about it, but I think it will stay this colour for as long as she lives here, now.”

 I hadn’t expected Lexa to hang on every word I spoke the way she did. There was an understated rapture on her features. It was both confusing to me and adorable at the same time. I didn’t question her about it for the time being and continued to lead her down the corridor.

 “This one is my mom’s bedroom. I’d show you, but she’s always been particular about me having guests in there. I imagine it was more of a rule she had for me when I was kid. She probably just didn’t want me playing in there and messing everything up. But, even now, I still feel like I’m not allowed in there. Especially if I have somebody with me. Old habits die hard, I suppose.”

 I continued to walk, barely even noticing that Lexa was still halfway down the corridor, looking at the faded black and white pictures of my ancestors.

 “You look like her.” She murmured, “Is this your grandmother?”

 I craned my neck to get a look at the picture and shook my head, “Great-grandmother. I never met her, but apparently she was lovely. She raised my dad when he was young.”

 “How come?” Lexa asked, still looking between me and the picture, her eyes light and imploring.

 I leaned against the wall, realising this tour was going to take much longer than I originally anticipated, “Well… it was quite the scandal back in the day, I think. But, he was born out of wedlock and his biological father was some rich prick who seduced a fifteen year old – my grandmother. I believe she took her own life quite soon after his first birthday. Either because of heartbreak, shame, or simply for the fact she couldn’t cope with the responsibility. The technical term for it nowadays would be postnatal depression. But, I think it ran much deeper for her than just a clinical illness.”

 I sighed, chewing on my lip.

 Lexa straightened up and squeezed my hand, gently. There were many things she could’ve said, but her touch carried far more meaning than any words could.

 “So, you think I look like my great-grandmother?” I broke the silence after a moment, returning back from my thoughts, “Does that mean you fancy her, too?”

 Lexa laughed, her hand falling back to her side, “Certainly. If only I was 100 years older…”

 I ribbed her in the side with my elbow, “See? Casanova.”

 I led her to my dad’s old office and opened the door, “This was his work room. He used to spend hours in here. I’d sit on the floor and draw or paint while he worked. I got paint on the floorboards on numerous occasions, but he never bothered to clean them up. He just used to hide them with the rug if ever my mother came in.”

 I turned back the corner of said rug to show Lexa the splotches of reds, greens, blues and yellows. She crouched down and ran her hand over the marks, pointing to one that looked like a smiley face, “Did you do this intentionally?”

 “Well, no. My dad turned it into a happy face because I was mortified I’d ruined the floor. He said it looked better like this.”

 Once I’d shown her the guest bedrooms, I took her to the second flight of spiral stairs, “These are an absolute pain to walk up when drunk, let me tell you…”

 She followed me into the open space of the attic, her eyes widening at the sight of my old bedroom. It was still pretty much how I’d left it. All of my aging artwork and canvases were still hanging on the walls, almost completely covering up the black and white paisley wallpaper.

 “The bedroom you grew up in.” Lexa said, softly.

 I went to sit on the double bed, crossing my legs on the mattress, allowing her to freely explore the corners of the room. She took her time in appreciating the paintings and charcoal drawings, running her fingers along the edges carefully, “Your mother must clean up here frequently.”

 “What?”

 I realised she was examining the lack of dust on her fingertips and I laughed at her curious observational tendencies.

 “Oh, yeah. She prides herself on owning a tidy house.”

 “This is Octavia? And Bellamy? And this boy is the one who decrypted Cage’s memory drive?” Lexa had found the collage of poor quality photo print-outs I’d made as a teenager, “You’re all so young.”

 I didn’t comment on her ability to state the obvious and instead just let her absorb everything around her.

 “I won’t get offended that you still have pictures of you and your exes on here.” She teased, and I rolled my eyes.

 “Oh, yeah. Seventeen year old me had great taste in partners. Straight-girl Samantha and crackhead Kyle.” I leaned back on my palms. I was beginning to warm to this side of Lexa a great deal. I had never seen her so taken by anything, especially as it happened to be by such boring details of my life. The way her eyes lit up when I answered her questions, and the traces of fascination that creased her eyebrows.

 It really was the most innocent thing I’d ever seen her do.

 It made me realise just how serious she’d been about me letting her into my life. It seemed she wanted to know everything. Even down to flicking through my old college books.

 If I wasn’t so taken with her behaviour, I’d probably be worrying about just how much information she was storing about me.

 She eventually wandered over to me and sat down beside me on the bed, “Thank you for showing me all this.”

 I angled myself to face her, “You couldn’t have seemed more enthralled if you were looking around Anne Frank’s house.”

 A melodic laugh left her lips and she shook her head, still smiling at me. It was devastating.

 “The queues for your room are infinitely shorter and less tiresome.”

 I was aware she’d just said something I would ordinarily find funny. But, I couldn’t tear my eyes away from her face.

 The shadow of her smile remained, but I could tell she was trying to work out the (no doubt) gormless look I was wearing. And it hit me. All in that moment.

 I was overcome by her. By everything about her. I wanted to speak. To tell her what I was really thinking, and how I was really feeling, but I couldn’t move my lips.

 The moment I recognised it for myself, it became terrifying and liberating all at once.

 She was sitting there all unguarded and perfect and I couldn’t breathe.

 Lexa’s hand crept along the bedding between us, her little finger brushing against mine.

 I wanted to say it to her, but I couldn’t. I didn’t want to taint this moment with such cliché words. Instead, I entwined our fingers and leaned towards her. Beneath her long lashes, her pale green eyes flickered down to my lips for a split second. I could tell she wanted to ask me what I was thinking, but she didn’t.

 It was a new kind of tension. It wasn’t chained with the dark desire we were used to. It was pure and addictive.

 And I was falling in love with it. With her.

 My mouth moved, and I tricked myself into thinking I saw hers do the same. But, before either of us could fill the blissful void, the tension was snapped.

 “ _Clarke? Are you up there?_ ” It was my mother.

 I took a sharp breath inwards and my head jerked back, “What? Yeah.” My throat was dry, but I had a good set of lungs on me and I knew my voice would carry, anyway.

 “ _Is everything okay?_ ”

 “Yep! Coming!” I managed, breaking away from Lexa’s intoxicating stare. I made to stand up, but Lexa pulled me back to her. Although the emotive blanket had been lifted from us, Lexa was still looking at me with an open tenderness. She said nothing, but pressed her mouth to mine with low-burning heat.

 Surprised, I returned her kiss, my hand slowly coming to rest on her jaw. She kissed me with familiarity, engaging me in our natural habits of exploring each other’s lips and tongue. Even though it could have been just like any other kiss, it was the closest I’d ever felt to her. There was no battle for dominance. No teasing. No holding back.

 Eventually, we broke apart, our noses grazing.

 If I thought I’d been lost for words before, I was now utterly blind.

 Without saying a single sentence, Lexa stood up and let me lead her back down the stairs. Even as we joined the others in the living room, my head was still somewhere in my old bedroom, sitting on the bed with Lexa’s hand in mine.

 

.::. _L_.::.

 

 The rest of the afternoon passed by easily. Clarke had been abnormally quiet for her. Still relaxed and pleasant to Kane and her mother, but she didn’t make as many quips or jibes. I had stolen a glance at her to make sure she was okay. She hadn’t appeared troubled. Rather, she seemed quite the opposite.

 Once we had said our farewells, Clarke and I returned to my car.

 “I have a busy week ahead.” I told her once she’d strapped in, “But, I would like for us to plan our getaway when you’re next free.”

 She looked over at me and nodded, “Well, I’m on nights next weekend, so perhaps once I’m finished, we could organise it then?”

 I nodded, slipping into thought as I drove Clarke home.

 I thought back to the moment we’d shared in her bedroom. She’d seemed to be on the brink of something – we both had. I had never felt something so powerful with another person before.

 “Thank you for today, by the way. You seemed to get Mother Griffin’s almighty seal of approval.” Clarke broke the quiet between us and I moved one hand to her thigh, comfortably.

 “You don’t need to thank me. I had a really nice time, Clarke.”

 She hesitated once we pulled up outside her flat and angled herself to look at me, “I was thinking… about why you enjoyed looking around my house so much. Then, I realised why.”

 I switched off the ignition so I could pay full attention to her words.

 “It must have been new to you, seeing the place I grew up.”

 “It was.” I agreed, sensing she still had something further to say.

 She ran her tongue along her lower lip before continuing, “You never had a childhood home, did you?”

 I shook my head, “No. I didn’t.”

 Clarke seemed to hit a brick wall, then. Perhaps she was trying to picture what my childhood had really been like, but she gave very little away.

 “I didn’t start building my life until I was a teenager.” I murmured, “I didn’t have fond memories or a place to store them. But, it isn’t just that, Clarke. I’ve never been with somebody who has shown me the things you did today. Even… even with Costia. I knew very little about her life outside of us. I don’t think she really had much family, either. She certainly never introduced me to her parents. She never wanted to.”

 Clarke listened with respect. I was grateful for it.

 “But, to hear your family history, about the things that made the person you are today. That meant more to me than you can imagine.”

 She took a shaky breath inwards and appeared to laugh at herself for breaking eye contact, “I… just…”

 My eyebrows creased, “What is it?”

 She rested her teeth on her lower lip, focusing on the dashboard intently. Gradually, she turned to look at me, “God, you just make me feel so… I don’t know… special, I guess.”

 “You are special, Clarke.”

 “And the fact you think so is amazing.” She pushed her hair behind her ear, her jaw slack, “Makes me wonder what I’ve done to deserve it. To deserve you. As sickeningly cliché as that sounds.”

 I offered her a small smile, “I’m not a believer of fate, Clarke. But, it is hard to picture a life in which I wouldn’t have met you.”

 She pressed her palms to her heated cheeks and shook her head, “I’ll never forgive you for making me blush like this, you know.”

 I leaned forwards, pressing my lips to the corner of hers, “Good, because I plan on doing it for a long time to come.”

 


	25. Chapter 25

.::. _C_.::.

 “Finally!” Octavia was lounging on the sofa when I got home from work, her legs kicked over the armrest. The Chancellor was curled up on her stomach, content in receiving all the strokes and scratches she had to offer, “I feel like I haven’t seen you in weeks.”

 I hung up my coat and went over to flip the kettle on, “I know, I’m sorry. How are you?”

 “Oh, you know… just caught in a repetitive cycle of pining for my boyfriend and housemate.”

 “Why? Where’s Lincoln?” I asked, pouring us both a mug of tea and stacking a selection of biscuits onto a platter.

 “Working away.” She sighed, “He won’t be back until next week.”

 I dropped into the armchair and placed the treats on the coffee table between us, “Just propose to him, already.”

 “I mean… wow. That’s quite a big leap. I haven’t even bought him a ring, yet.”

 I laughed, sipping at my tea, “No arguments recently, then?”

 Octavia shrugged, “No more than usual.”

 I raised an eyebrow, changing the channel on the TV over to something that didn’t involve people getting slaughtered in the streets. I’d seen enough blood that day.

 “And, by usual, you mean that you keep getting moody at him for no reason?”

 She considered throwing her biscuit at me, but thought better of it and ate it instead. Custard creams were too valuable to use as ammunition, “It’s never for no reason. It’s not my fault that I have unrealistic expectations of absolutely everyone around me.”

 “No. Course not.”

 “How’s things with lover-girl, anyway?” She asked, watching The Chancellor as he sauntered over to me, leaping onto my lap.

 “Good. Really good, I think. I was supposed to see her once I’d done nights, but she got caught up in work. She’s booked for us to go away in a few weeks. Venice.”

 I caught the envy on Octavia’s face as she fired a glare in my direction, “Sounds horrific. Imagine getting whisked away to Europe by a filthy rich club-owner. Gross.”

 I didn’t mind sacrificing half a digestive biscuit. I tossed it in her general direction and let my hand settle on The Chancellor’s head, “She met my mom, you know.”

 Octavia smirked, “Really? Was it intentional?”

 “As it happens, yes. We had dinner with her new boyfriend.”

 I filled her in on the details of the event, finding myself gushing accidentally about how Lexa had acted when looking around the house. I fully expected the taunts she delivered, but I didn’t mind so much.

 “Just propose to her, already.” She mimicked, brushing the crumbs off her pyjama top.

 “We could have a joint wedding.”

 “So long as Lexa’s paying.”

 I laughed, “Anyway, enough of that. Give me some gossip. Any scandals to fill me in on?”

 “Nothing really… oh, except Bellamy has a girlfriend. She’s a bitch and I can’t wait to punch her in the face.”

 I looked at her over the rim of my mug and lifted both eyebrows, “Oh? By that you mean she’s really nice and you can’t find a single thing to hate about her.”

 “Exactly.” She agreed, “She’s way out of his league.”

 She thought for a moment, swallowing before she continued, “Actually, there is something. Finn? Remember him?”

 “Nope. That cheating asshole doesn’t ring any bells.” I scoffed.

 “Yeah, well, apparently he got someone pregnant.”

 “Someone?” I repeated.

 “Raven.” Octavia groaned, “He got Raven pregnant.”

 I almost dropped my tea, my mouth falling open, “What?”

 “Yep. I’m not really supposed to say anything, though. So, don’t, and I repeat, _don’t_ tell anybody you know.” She pointed an accusatory finger at me, but I was still too busy being shook to react to it.

 “Why? How?”

 Octavia rolled her eyes, “Well, Clarke, I suppose you’re old enough to get ‘the talk’ now. When two people really love each other… or whatever. That aside, Raven is furious.”

 “Then she should have kept her damn legs closed.” I muttered, childishly.

 “Because that’s something you excel at.”

 “To my credit, I’ve always used protection.” My defence was weak, but it was worth saying anyway, “Was she drunk or something?”

 “Apparently. Yeah.”

 “Jesus.”

 “Exactly. Jesus.”

 “Wonder how many other kids he has sprouting up around the world.” I commented, distastefully.

 Octavia shrugged, “God knows.”

 “I doubt it.”

 We both took mutual sips of tea, drifting our attention over to the TV.

 “I hate the news.” Octavia grumbled, “It’s just horror story after horror story.”

 “You get enough of those when you look in the mirror.”

 She shot me an unimpressed eye-roll, “Good one, prick.”

 “Wait…” I sat up, holding my hand in the air to silence Octavia, training my focus on the screen.

 “ _… but the police have reason to believe it was caused by arson. An eye-witness report states that they saw somebody fleeing the well-renowned nightclub, Polis, just prior to the fire starting. Emergency services are at the scene and the blazes appear to be under control. The number of casualties are unconfirmed at this time_ …”

 “Holy shit.” Octavia spilled her tea on the floor as she rushed to place down her mug, “Clarke.”

 I was frozen for a second.

 Polis was on fire.

 Lexa was working tonight.

 Polis was on fire.

 “Clarke!” Octavia was kneeling beside me on the floor, “Let’s go. Check your phone. See if Lexa has called.”

 Instantly, at the mention of her name, I blinked and startled The Chancellor off my knee as I stood up. I reached for my bag and pulled my phone out. There was no text or missed call from her. Nothing from Indra, either.

 I tried to ring them both, to no avail.

 “Get your shoes on.” Octavia pulled me towards the door, “I’ll drive.”

 

…

 

 The town centre was a nightmare. The thick black smoke ploughed through the streets, making it almost impossible to see beyond a few yards. We could barely drive close enough to see Polis, let alone get to it. The fire had died down significantly and, surprisingly, it didn’t seem to be in the terrible state I had expected it to be in. Octavia pulled up in the nearest parking space and locked the car, “Have you managed to get through to Lexa, yet?”

 I shook my head, forcing myself to think rationally. Surely, she would be caught up dealing with the police and fire services. Not to mention the stress of making sure her employees were safe. I’d find her in the thick of the crowds, doing what Lexa did best. Controlling everything and being totally safe and unharmed in the process.

 I pulled Octavia round the back streets, which were far emptier than I’d expected them to be.

 We reached the area that had been cordoned off by the police and I quickly snuck underneath the tape, dragging Octavia in with me.

 There were crowds of people being directed to safety, and several members of the emergency services securing and managing the scene. I spied an ambulance up ahead and squeezed past a police officer to reach it.

 “Clarke?”

 I turned at the sound, seeing Kane standing with a couple of other paramedics by his ambulance.

 He pulled me to one side, ignoring the babble of civilians nearby, “What are you doing here?” He asked, releasing my elbow from his hold.

 “Have you seen Lexa?” I asked, “Is she here?”

 “Lexa? No, I haven’t. Is she here tonight?”

 I ran a hand through my hair, trying to clear my throat of the smoke, “I don’t know. I think so.”

 “I haven’t come across her. She might’ve been directed to one of the safety points with the other clubbers.”

 I shook my head, “She won’t be there. That is… she’s not a clubber.”

 Kane raised his eyebrows, “What do you mean?”

 I sighed, “It’s her club.”

 It took him a moment to grasp my words before the realisation struck, “Oh! Shit. Well, the security is over there.” He pointed to where the bouncers were gathered, paramedics checking them over, “They might have an idea where she is.”

 I felt a sickening pull in my stomach. If Kane hadn’t seen her then that meant she was probably still inside. He would’ve noticed her. Plus, she wasn’t the sort of person one could just overlook.

 “If I see her, I’ll call you.” He told me, grabbing a fluorescent jacket from the back of the ambulance and handing it to me, “Put this on, or you’ll end up getting moved away.”

 “Thank you.” I took it and threw it around my shoulders.

 “Clarke… please, be careful.”

 I nodded and linked my arm with Octavia’s, squeezing between the crowds towards the bouncers. I recalled one of them to be Nyko, and I made a beeline for him, “Hey!” I called out, reaching out to him.

 “I’m _fine_!” He growled, batting me away, “I’ve already been checked over.”

 “Where’s Lexa?”

 He blinked and turned to me, “Jesus, Clarke. It’s you. What are you doing here?”

 “I’m looking for Lexa.”

 He rested a hand on my shoulder, “I don’t know where she is. She was with Indra when I last saw her. She disappeared and we all got moved out by the damn cops.” He glanced about him before he took my arm and pulled me away from the others with Octavia, “Listen, I’m worried. This wasn’t caused by just a regular arsonist. Indra was in bad shape. She got into a bust up with some asshole trying to cause trouble. I’m thinking maybe it was a distraction while somebody else started the fire. I don’t know where they are right now, but Lexa will have it covered. Trust me. She will be okay.”

 “So, what are you worrying about right now?” I asked, trying to remain calm.

 “I think Nia’s called in a favour from someone. She’s pissed.”

 That would make sense. Even though she couldn’t be here to try bully Lexa into giving up her company, she certainly wouldn’t go down without a fight.

 Over Nyko’s shoulder, I saw a man standing a short way off, looking a little worse for wear. I recognised him from somewhere, but I couldn’t place it at that moment. Not until his small eyes locked with mine. He was the one who jumped into the fight between the boys and Cage Wallace. He looked away from me and made to shuffle away from the thick of the crowds.

 “And what about him?” I asked, inclining my head towards him, “Friend or foe?”

 “Roan? He’s an unknown quantity to most of us. Lexa has some kind of deal with him, though. Seems to trust him. He helped her get rid of Nia. I admit, it’s worrying. Him being here tonight when the fire starts. I don’t trust the guy anyway, but I trust him even less because he’s her son.”

 The plot thickened. And thickened. And then some. I wanted to pick Nyko’s brain for more information on the entire conspiracy, but I was hyperaware that Polis was alight and Lexa was nowhere to be seen.

 “Give me a minute. Octavia, wait here and shout me if you see Lexa.”

 She squeezed my hand and nodded, “Of course. Be careful.”

 Nyko gave me a nod and moved to stand next to Octavia, keeping her close to the other bouncers. Probably for her own safety.

 I tailed Roan, a little less cautiously than I should have, but he’d already seen me so I wouldn’t be that much of a shock to his system.

 Suddenly, he turned, his eyes training on me harshly, “What do you want, Griffin?”

 I chose to ignore the fact he knew my name and instead got straight to the point, “Have you seen Lexa?”

 “I’m not her keeper.”

 Now wasn’t a good time for him to test me. Even if he did look like he might crush me simply by flexing his bicep.

 “Have you seen her?” I repeated, “You know something.”

 He glanced over his shoulder and bit back a wince. I could see there was blood seeping from his side, but I wasn’t about to start offering him medical advice until he talked.

 “She got me out.” He muttered, “And then she went back inside for Indra.”

 “So, she’s still in there?”

 He shrugged, “Could be. The fire services will have her out in no time. The building seems stable enough.”

 “What else do you know?”

 He managed a bitter laugh, “What are you? A doctor or a fucking detective?”

 Realistically speaking, I knew I couldn’t go in there to get Lexa myself. It would be stupid and I would end up causing more problems for everyone. But, I could hardly just sit on my ass and wait for it all to blow over. I had to occupy myself with _something_ and it may as well have been something useful.

 “I am somebody who is worried to the bone about where my girlfriend is and if she’s safe. If you know something about what or who caused this, you’d better tell me.”

 “I’m bleeding, Griffin. I need to get myself sorted.”

 “Yeah, the ambulance is _that_ way.” I gestured in the opposite direction and scoffed, pointing to a low wall running along the edge of the pavement, “Good job I’m a doctor. Sit down and start talking.” I turned and shouted for Octavia to fetch me a medical kit from Kane’s ambulance whilst I busied myself looking over Roan’s wound.

 “This wasn’t caused by the fire. Did you get into a fight?”

 “Yep. With a blade.” He was being abrasive on purpose, but it wasn’t an attitude I was unfamiliar with.

 “Whose blade?”

 “Some prick who thought he was clever.”

 I held my tongue lest I say anything sarcastic, and waited for him to continue. Octavia returned with the bag and dropped it by my feet. She observed the two of us and took a few steps back to join Nyko again. After a long silence, filled only with barely audible winces as I tended to Roan’s gash, he spoke.

 “I know you think I had something to do with the fire. I didn’t.”

 “But, you know who did.” I stated, still focused on cleaning him up.

 “Obviously, it was Nia’s doing – she’s somebody who isn’t too sweet on your gal pal.”

 I nodded, “I know who your mother is, Roan.”

 “Right. Look, there was a tussle happening with Indra and some guy and the bouncers seemed pretty absorbed in that. I recognised him as being one of Nia’s lackeys and I figured she wouldn’t have sent him alone. I went to find his partner and – Jesus, what are you doing to me?” He groaned, tilting his head back and clenching his jaw.

 “Stopping you from bleeding out onto the ground. Go on.” I urged.

 “Anyway, I found him. He threatened to knife me if I tried to stop him. Clearly… you can paint the rest of the picture yourself.”

 I wasn’t in the mood to fill in the blanks.

 “I’d rather you just tell me straight.”

 “I tried to stop him. He tried to knife me.”

 “Looks like he succeeded.”

 “This is nothing. Lexa found me and the sucker didn’t stand a chance after that… The fire was started close to where we were. The guy had lured us both down there, knowing that’s where the fire would be.” He gripped onto the wall’s ledge as I began to carefully suture his wound, “We were more or less trapped. I wasn’t in such a good state, but Lexa managed to get me out of there. She went straight for Indra after that. I can only assume she’d realised that the other guy was part of the plan.”

 I listened, forcing my hand to remain steady as I finished closing up the laceration, “And this deal you have with Lexa… how does that fit in?”

 “It doesn’t ‘fit in’.” He muttered, “Nia near enough disowned me and Lexa offered me a position in her company. I know better than to fuck with her, trust me.”

 I had wised up in the last few months of my life, and I continued to push him, “But, it must have taken a lot of balls to go against your own mother.”

 “I made do with the two I have.” He returned, evenly, “Look, I owed Lexa my career and now I owe her my life. If I wanted the company for myself, I would’ve just killed her outright. Do you realise how much money it would cost to repair the damage on this place? I’d have been better just shooting myself in the foot if it was my intention to double cross her.”

 I met his stare, challengingly, “And how do I know you didn’t kill her outright?”

 “Jesus Christ, you are relentless.” He laughed, tossing his head back.

 I didn’t share in his humour.

 After a minute, he managed to sober up and rose to his feet, “Listen, Griffin. You don’t scare me. I wouldn’t waste my time coming up with an elaborate lie just to give myself an easy getaway. I would have just punched you in the head and ran.”

 “Whilst bleeding?”

 “Sure.”

 I sighed, not because I had resigned myself to believing him, necessarily. But, because I had other things to worry about. If, indeed, he was telling the truth, there was no point in me catastrophizing over the what-ifs.

 “Alright. Your stitches will need removing in 5-7 days. Don’t do it yourself, unless you actually know what you’re doing…” I handed him a couple of pills from the med bag, “Take these painkillers, because that is going to hurt like a bitch in the morning.”

 He accepted them, and I barely heard him thank me before I turned away from him to find Octavia.

 “I think she’s still in there, O.” I said, quietly.

 She wrapped her arm around me and pulled me into her side, “It’ll be okay. They’re still bringing people out and the fire has nearly stopped completely. She’ll be out here soon.”

 Even though I knew there was no way Octavia could make guarantees like that, it was what I needed to hear right then. To keep myself busy, I helped treat a few minor injuries of nearby casualties to take the strain off the paramedics. Octavia kept close by me the entire time. She offered me assistance here and there, and then Kane checked back in with me once he’d organised the newest group of paramedic arrivals.

 “No sign of her yet?” He asked.

 I shook my head, removing my latex gloves and stuffing my hands into the jacket pockets, “Not yet.”

 “Well, thank you for pitching in, Clarke.”

 “Any time.”

 I moved onto the next set of patients, patching up a few abrasions and wrapping various limbs in bandages. I sort of lost track of time after that. I was too focused on keeping my calm that I hardly heard Octavia shouting me.

 She grabbed onto my shoulder in urgency, “Clarke!”

 I whipped my head around, my heart hammering wildly in my chest as I saw where she was pointing. Relief gushed through my entire body and I almost keeled over at the sensation.

 Lexa. She was alive. She was okay.

 She was alive.

 The closer I looked, the more I questioned just how okay she was. She was covered head to foot in ash, charcoal and dried blood. She had somebody slung over her shoulder. I could tell from where I was standing that she would need seeing to immediately. Even though she looked about ready to collapse, she kept walking until she reached the nearest ambulance. A firefighter hurried towards her, freeing her of the body on her back.

 “Clarke, go.” Octavia pushed me forwards, “I’ll be right behind you.”

 I didn’t need telling twice.

 I tried to manoeuvre my way through the thinning crowds until I was close enough to shout her name.

 She hadn’t heard me. I could hardly see her face beneath the black, and she was coughing, clutching her chest.

 Despite her condition, she was somehow managing to issue orders to those nearby. It was unsurprising that they responded accordingly. She had enough natural authority to command an entire army if she wanted to.

 She was training every ounce of strength she had left on ensuring that the person, who I identified to be Indra, would be treated. Once Indra had been transported into the back of an ambulance, I saw a few uneasy paramedics attempt to coax Lexa to get seen to, but she stood resolute and ignored every last one of them.

 The police presence increased and my opportunity to get to her was narrowing.

 “Let me through. I’m a doctor.” I held up the medical bag for proof as the officers allowed me past.

 I couldn’t blame the medical team for their hesitancy. Lexa was immovable.

 “Excuse me.” I squeezed between a few of the paramedics and reached out to Lexa the second I got close enough.

 Her head snapped to me, eyes pale and haunting against the soot on her skin. I didn’t flinch. For a second, she stared at me in sheer shock, her lips parting.

 “Clar–” She didn’t get chance to finish uttering my name before she wobbled where she stood. I caught her and held her against me with surety, “I need a trolley over here!”

 Quickly, she was helped onto the wheeled stretched and I followed them into the back of the ambulance, Octavia hot on my heels.

 We saw to stabilising her condition, which was difficult. She was in a poor state.

 Fortunately, she wasn’t completely unconscious. She was disorientated and confused, but she was awake.

 “It’s alright. I’m here.” I said soothingly, fitting the oxygen mask around her head, “I just need you to take some deep breaths for me.”

 She struggled for a moment, still coughing and fighting to sit up, but I was firm.

 “Deep breaths, Lexa.”

 I could see her trying to make sense of everything. _Why was she here? Why was I here? What was she doing in an ambulance? Why couldn’t she move?_

 I wrapped my hand around hers and the doors closed, “You’re safe.” I told her.

 She squeezed my fingers. Hard. She was immobile and I knew that was the thing that terrified her the most.

 “You’re safe.” I repeated.

 I kept saying it over and over until her grip on me relaxed.

 “I need you to focus on your breathing, Lexa. We will be out of here soon.”

 Octavia had been quiet, sitting in the seat beside me. I was hugely grateful to her for being here with me. I was absolutely certain I’d be making her bacon sandwiches every morning for a week to pay her back.

 I watched her oxygen levels slowly begin to rise until we arrived, but I knew it was only the beginning of a very long haul.

 The ER was busy with the victims. It was going to be tight.

 “I’ll do the handover. You guys get back to Polis.” I told the paramedics once they’d helped transfer Lexa onto a hospital bed. I called on a nearby nurse and we transported her down to the bed bay. It was cramped, and I was lucky to find a space.

 “We’re getting more staff from upstairs.” The nurse told me, “I’m needed back at resus. Will you be alright until they get here?”

 “Of course. Thank you.” I glanced over to Octavia, who seemed to be handling everything remarkably well, “Fancy being a nurse for the next few minutes?”

 She nodded, “Playing doctors and nurses has always been one of my fantasies, after all.”

 I appreciated her light humour despite everything and hooked Lexa back up to the oxygen, checking her vital signs.

 “We want to avoid intubation. So far, her sats seem to be rising. That’s a good sign. I need to keep monitoring her for signs of respiratory distress.”

 Octavia examined Lexa, carefully, “Not actually a real nurse, Clarke. English, please.”

 “Right. Smoke inhalation can cause damage to the throat and lungs. This reader measures her oxygen levels. Ideally, we want the number to hit 95 or above. Her airways may start to swell, or she may end up producing too much mucus and we don’t want her to choke on that.” I was aware I’d been running away with myself again, and I took a moment to stop, “Make sure she is breathing. If you’re worried she’s not getting enough oxygen, hit the emergency call button.”

 “Got it… Wait. Are you going somewhere?” Octavia sent me a look of sheer panic, her hands clutching onto the bed rails.

 “I need to get into my scrubs and fetch some equipment. She’s stable for now, but I don’t want to run the risk of passing on any infection while she’s in this state. You’ll be fine, O. If you’re worried, shout for help, okay? I know you’ve got a good set of lungs on you.”

 “Okay. I’ve got this. Just… don’t be longer than five minutes, okay?”

 Four minutes and 39 seconds later, I was back by Lexa’s bedside.

 Octavia was guarding Lexa like a Doberman.

 “Clarke?”

 I turned at the sound of my mother’s voice. She was striding towards me with purpose and I barely knew how to respond when she pulled me into a strong embrace. I stuttered the beginning of a question, but I couldn’t entirely get it out.

 “Marcus called me. He told me what happened. I got here as soon as I could. I’m so sorry, baby.” She murmured, “Octavia, thank you so much for being here.”

 Octavia smiled, “No problem, Doctor G.”

 “Right, tell me what the plan is.”

 I got her up to speed with Lexa’s care, switching automatically into medical mode, “… She’s dehydrated, too. I need to get fluids into her.”

 “Have you checked for burns?”

 “Briefly, but my main focus was her oxygen. I’m waiting for the nurses from upstairs, but I imagine they’re in high demand.”

 I thought of Indra. I knew she would be Lexa’s priority concern at that point. But, Lexa was mine.

 “Come on, let’s do this together.”

 My mother grabbed pair of gloves and shut the curtains, setting about cutting away the clothes from her body, “Fetch the IV. We need a cleaning kit.”

 I nodded, accepting her as my superior in that moment. Ordinarily, I didn’t enjoy taking orders from my mom. But, she was the most experienced doctor I knew and I wanted nothing more than the best for Lexa.

 I exited the bay, retrieving the equipment I needed, wheeling it down the corridor.

 “Griffin!”

 I heard the rich tones before I placed who they belonged to. I glanced over my shoulder to see Gustus, huge and resolute, in the lobby. He looked out of place amongst the bustle.

 “Gustus.” I waited for him to make his way towards me, “She’s this way. Come on.”

 He seemed to be battling with a thousand thoughts all at once, but he said nothing, and just followed me back to the bay.

 Once he’d gotten a glimpse of Lexa, he inclined his head, “I’ll wait outside.”

 He was still standing in the exact same position once I finally surfaced from her bed space, “She’s okay, Gustus.”

 I hadn’t been able to fully see the extent of Lexa’s damage until I’d cleaned her from the residue of soot and ash. She was bruised and grazed, but the burns were minimal and treatable. She’d spent most of the time flitting in and out of consciousness. I wasn’t sure how aware she was of what was happening around her, but her eyes had locked on mine more than once. Even if her stare was hazy.

 “We need to get her out of the ER.” I turned to my mother, tossing the disposable gloves into the bin, “Can you find a ward to refer her to?”

 She nodded, “Yes.”

 I gave Gustus a few moments alone with her, although I knew Lexa was beyond talking at that point. She had been laying with her eyes closed, pensively. Octavia and I closed the curtains behind us as we stepped out of the bay.

 “Coffee?” I asked, and she nodded, wearily.

 We headed down to the café, and I made sure to buy Octavia the fanciest, most expensive coffee they had to offer.

 “Still pining for boyfriend and housemate?” I asked.

 She just laughed and shook her head, “God no. Pining for bed at this point.”

 I sat down at one of the tables to sip my coffee, “Thank you so much for being here, O.” I sighed, drumming my fingers lightly on the table top, “I don’t know where I’d be without you.”

 “In a ditch somewhere, I guess.” She smirked, squeezing my hand gently, “Thanks for the coffee.”

 “Yeah, you definitely owe me one for that.” I teased, “Listen, I’m going to get you a taxi back to your car and you’re going to have the biggest lay in tomorrow.”

 Octavia drained the contents of her cup and leaned back in her chair, “I’ll assume you won’t be there tomorrow to make me breakfast?”

 “Probably not. You can use my Uber Eats account, if you want.”

 “I absolutely want that, yes.” She stifled a yawn and I booked her a cab through my phone, “Will you let me know when you’re home?”

 She nodded, stretching her back to prepare herself for standing up all over again, “You’re pretty damn amazing. You know that?”

 I shrugged, “My ego appreciates you saying so, but I still feel a little useless. Like, all I can do is just wait. I _hate_ waiting.”

 “I know. But, you’ve done a hell of a lot between waiting. You need to take your own advice and get some rest here tonight.”

 I sighed and rose to my feet once the taxi arrived, pulling her into a hug, “Love you.”

 “I know. Love you, too.”

 Rest wasn’t something I’d be getting familiar with any time soon. Once Lexa had been moved to another ward, I was going to track down Indra. Lexa would need as little stress as possible when she awoke, and I knew that if anybody was committed to seeing to that, it would be me.

 

.::. _L_.::.

 

 The white light poked at my vision. My body was numb. For a few moments, all I could do was lay stock still.

 My head was cloudy.

 There was the faint sound of a pulse monitor bleeping. Carefully, I raised my hand to explore the pressure around my mouth. A mask.

 I pulled it from my face, propping myself up before I could open my eyes properly.

 I was in a hospital. The pulse monitor was mine.

 Why?

 “You’re awake.” I tried to move my head towards the voice, but it was altogether too difficult.

 “Gustus?” My throat was hoarse and tight.

 “I’m here.”

 But, why was _I_ here?

 “Take your time, ma’am.” He instructed, softly.

 I did, but not out of choice.

 Woozy, I managed to turn myself towards him, a sickly feeling crawling over my skin. Something had happened. A fight… smoke… fire. Flashing lights. Indra.

 Clarke.

 I was covered up with a hospital gown. It wouldn’t have been my first choice in fashion, but I imagined I’d been given little other option.

 I was finally able to focus on Gustus as he sat loyally by my bedside.

 “Where…?”

 I wasn’t sure whose location I was after or why, but I had a lot of questions.

 “Take it steady. I’ll explain everything properly once you’ve come round.”

 I looked at the cannula protruding from the crease of my elbow. I wanted it out.

 “Don’t.” Gustus advised, sensing my intentions, “You need that to stay in.”

 Said who?

 “Talk.” I mumbled, my head lowering back to the pillows.

 “There was a fire at Polis. You got Indra out of there.” He began, and the hazy snippets of recollection tarred my thoughts, “You both needed treatment.”

 “Clarke?”

 I remembered something… being in the back of a vehicle. Clarke had been holding my hand, telling me I was safe.

 “Yes. Your doctor found you at Polis and had you brought back here. She treated you.”

 I nodded, slowly. Gustus opened his mouth to speak, but the door opened and he held his tongue.

 It was Abby.

 She stepped into the bedroom and closed the door behind her, “Good. You’re awake. How are you feeling, sweetheart?”

 Gustus wasn’t impressed at the terminology, but he didn’t comment. From Abby’s eyes, I was her daughter’s girlfriend. She wasn’t interested in viewing me the rest of the world did, and oddly enough, I found I strangely appreciated the affection.

 “I don’t…”

 Abby took a seat next to my bed and leaned forwards, “We’ve put you on some morphine for the time being. It’s not much, but you’ll be feeling quite disorientated for a short while. We will ease you off that and eventually and switch you onto something like Acetaminophen for pain relief. You haven’t received any significant burns requiring anything other than simple treatments. I will get you some gels prescribed and eventually change those to an antibiotic cream. The main concern we have at the moment is smoke inhalation. You do have some lung damage from the smoke. It can be treated. You’re through the worst of it so far, but I’ll be frank with you. Smoke inhalation can be complex and may affect you later down the line. Because of that, you will need to stay here for a few days. I understand that will be difficult for you considering everything that’s happened.”

 I wanted to protest to Abby’s words. There was so much that needed to be seen to. I just didn’t have it in me to fight.

 “Is… Is Clarke okay?” I asked.

 She inclined her head, “Clarke is fine. She’s been caring for your friend.”

 “Indra?”

 “Yes. She’s okay, too. She’s undergoing some intensive treatment, but she will pull through. She is receiving the best care possible.”

 This offered me some comfort.

 “I’m sorry about what happened… to your club. I didn’t realise Polis belonged to you.”

 My heart sank. Polis had meant a great deal to me. It still did.

 The way she was looking at me reminded me of Clarke. All-knowing, sincere, compassionate. It made me feel weak.

 “From what I hear, you were incredibly brave, Lexa.” Abby told me, gently, “Going in after your friend must have taken a lot of strength.”

 I was shaking my head, but Abby silenced me with a raise of her eyebrows.

 “It was dangerous. But, you put everybody else above yourself. Now, all we ask, is that you let us do the same for you.”

 “How long?” I asked. I appreciated Abby’s honesty with me. Ideally, I didn’t want to be here at all. I knew there was little possibility of me discharging myself easily. Clarke would either talk me out of it or follow me home and annoy me until I returned.

 This would have been so much easier if my identity was more ambiguous. It just so happened that two very well distinguished doctors within the hospital were now deeply involved in my personal life.

 I was grateful for it – naturally. It was just hard for me to accept. Relying on others wasn’t a strength of mine.

 “Maybe up to a week.”

 I avoided closing my eyes in frustration and just inclined my head instead, “Will you let me know if there’s any change with my friend Indra?”

 Abby smiled, “Of course. I imagine Clarke will have more information than I do. I’m sure she will come by as soon as she’s done.”

 I wondered if she had been working the entire time. I doubted she would have taken as much as a bathroom break.

 “What…” I paused, “How long have I been asleep?”

 “You arrived at hospital at around 1 in the morning.” She glanced at her fob-watch, “And we’re now just after 5pm.”

 Had she been here all those hours?

 I frowned, lightly. Abby didn’t say anything further on the matter and stood up, “You need as much rest as you can get. I’ll be back tomorrow. Look after yourself, please.” She rested a hand on my shoulder before turning to leave.

 I made no promises, but I couldn’t see how I would be able to abscond in my current condition, anyway.

 “Thank you, Doctor.”

 She glanced at me over her shoulder, reprimanding, “I’ve told you to call me Abby.” She offered a faint smile, “But, just make sure the other patients don’t hear you.”

 Once she’d gone, I settled back into the pillows, but my body was still rigid.

 “She’s right. You need rest.” Gustus spoke, his voice rich and soothing.

 I knew they were both right, but resting felt so… counter-productive.

 “And you? I don’t need a babysitter.”

 He displayed some amusement, “If I recall correctly, you did the same for me.”

 I sighed, “Just make sure there’s some kind of rotation if you insist on it. You must go home and sleep.”

 “I will. When I’m tired. For now, I’m staying.”

 I sensed he was unmoving on the matter, so I changed the subject.

 “Is Polis being managed?”

 Gustus nodded, “Yes, ma’am. Your sister was here earlier. I meant to bring it up sooner. She didn’t want to stay long because she didn’t feel it necessary to disturb you. She’s overseeing management whilst you’re in here.”

 “Anya knows about this?

 Of course she did.

 “Yes. She said she will return later this evening, or first thing in the morning.”

 I exhaled, wanting to pinch the bridge of my nose, but finding myself altogether too exhausted to lift my hand. I lay in silence for some time. Gustus kept to himself, but he was vigilant.

 Time seemed to crawl by, slowly. I was waiting for something to change. But, it didn’t. Not for a couple of hours.

 Eventually, I opened my eyes at the sound of the door creaking. I knew it was her before I saw her. I couldn’t say why. Perhaps it was the vague scent of her perfume. Maybe it was the sound of her breathing. It could have been the footsteps.

 But, ultimately, I imagined it was simply because I had _wanted_ it to be her. I was just fortunate enough that it was.

 She pushed open the door and stared at me from across the short span of the floor.

 Clarke looked exhausted. Her hair was pulled up into a messy bun, strands of blonde kissing the sides of her face. Her eyes were weary and a deep shade of blue. She pulled the collar of her creased white jacket, her lips parting.

 Gustus merely cleared his throat and excused himself from the vicinity, going to stand outside the room.

 For a moment, I wasn’t sure she knew what to say.

 With a voice still hoarse, I murmured a soft “come here.”

 She did. Traipsing towards me, her back threatening to bend, Clarke pulled a chair up to the edge of my bed and reached for my hands.

 She didn’t speak and raised them to her mouth, kissing the knuckles with shaking tenderness.

 It gave me the strength I needed to touch her face; bring it closer to me. In those seconds, her forehead pressed to mine, not a word transpired between the two of us.

 Clarke needed rest. Desperately. I could see the sleep deprivation weighing down her every limb, her every feature.

 Finally, she spoke, “Indra’s going to be okay.”

 It provided me with some relief. Enough relief to lay my worries to rest for the time being.

 “You’re going to be okay.” She breathed.

 Thanks to her, I would be.

 I gripped onto her as tightly as I could, my lips puckering against her skin.

 “There aren’t enough words, Clarke.” I managed.

 She shushed me, brushing her thumb over my mouth, “We’ll think of words later.”

 I paused, looking at the tired pull of her eyes, “Clarke… You should go home and sleep.”

 “No.”

 “Please, Clarke. _Please_.”

 She hesitated, searching my face with a weary gaze, “I’m not going anywhere.”

 “I need you to rest. Not here. You need real sleep.”

 I could tell she wanted to protest, but ultimately, she knew I was right.

 “I’ll use the on-call room. But, just let me… let me look at you. Just for a minute.”

 The smile I gave her wasn’t forced, “I’m afraid I’m not much to look at right now.”

It wasn’t her usual laugh, but it was a laugh all the same, “You’re a damn sight better than me, not that it means anything.”

 I cocked an eyebrow, “Your sleep deprivation must be affecting your vision.”

 “And the smoke inhalation must’ve gotten to your head.” She bit her lip with an air of mischief, “Too soon?”

 “Definitely.” I mock-reprimanded, “Now, go on. Sleep.”

 Reluctantly, she kissed my cheek, “Fine. I’ll be back as soon as I’m awake.”

 I didn’t doubt it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for continuing to show your support. I hope you enjoyed (?) this chapter. Don't be shy... let me know your thoughts.
> 
> Lady Of Cythera  
> xox


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